Labor Day, Approaching

I've been opposed on general principles (read: money) to purchasing a satellite radio receiver. It's like purchasing a computer and having to pay for the internet. Oh, you mean I do that!? Never mind.

However, after five years in this town, I've learned a few things:

1. Most, if not all, of the radio stations are owned by a single entity. That means you better like a playlist loaded with country, or contemporary (read: corporate, mindless, tasteless, talentless) music genres. Oh, let me not forget the three religious radio stations.

2. What I used to understand about radio still holds true. Advertising pays the operating expenses for commercial radio. HOWEVER, there are more ads and less "entertainment" on the airwaves. When I turn on a radio I want to hear music or conversation. You can toss a shameless plug in between segments for all I care, but DON'T INUNDATE ME with bull-cr@p.

Memo to self...or memo to spouse: HD or XM for birthday. Or, let's get that inexpensive bike took kit.

Labor Day is this weekend, and I'm far from the nostalgic state of mind I was last year. I guess if the temperatures were closer to 80 degrees than 90 I might begin to think about the approach of autumn. But we're much closer to infernal than autumnal. Track workouts on Tuesday and Thursday evening (ideally) finish at 7:30, which is about the same time the sun goes down.

Positive: Temperature drops nearly ten degrees between start of workout and finish.

Negative: Still warm enough for small bugs to live.

The track's lights did not go on at 6:45 last night, either, which meant dusk approached as we were finishing our last set of repeats. Probably a one-off situation; something I hope doesn't become a more-frequent occurrence.

I'm waiting to tighten up the list of athletes who are training to run the marathon in December...but only for another two days. I mentioned on several occasions via e-mail, in the newsletter, everything but a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night that it is their responsibility to contact me personally (phone, e-mail, face-to-face), and yet, I STILL GET SECOND-HAND COMMUNICATIONS. Once again: Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot, Oscar?

While we're going insane here in the office getting the last of the interviews and daily activity logs collected and beginning to make sense of the numbers, the presence of one of the staff from one of our more-northern detachments has made it fun. I like working with persons who have a sense of humor and aren't constrained by artificial bull-cr@p. Yep, give me a WYSIWYG kind of co-worker, any time.