Obscure prog-rock lyric from twenty years past, playing in the background: ¹

"Alo-ah
 It's Honolulu Lulu, and she's blowing... 
 Everybody's screaming streets are teeming 
     with kamikaze rickshaw
 And the hurricane keeps on blowing 
     just as far as she can go
 Will she ever let up 
 Will she?"

I'm hearing through my open kitchen window one of those modern audio annoyances - it was particularly acute at the San Jose apartment building I spent two months at last year - the "Sports" noise. These come in two flavors (the second one's my current distraction):

• The TV sound - crowd noise which ebbs and flows, as does the emotion in the announcer's voice (but that doesn't carry like)
• the guys gathered round the set venting - their cheers, shouts and the moanings. I bet they're watching a World Cup match.

Sudden guffaw at work (I was alone 2) when I recalled the time F and I were at a sushi bar during one of our holiday rendezvous back East, when the chef was practically flinging his raw fish at us. I think it was Christmas Eve, the restaurant (called "Osaka", in that strip mall across from the main GSFC gate) was somewhat deserted. He was putting together a take-out order and the clear-plastic clamshell he was filling kinda got away from him, end result - flying sushi strewn about. I had no trouble with the idea of helping myself to the segments of California Roll suddenly materializing in my dining space, but F restrained me. The chef was quite embarrassed.

Lunchtime in the cafeteria, the NASA Select monitor showed Discovery on the ground. With the herd of people milling about, it must've landed hours ago. They've got a mobile lounge at the Cape now, like at some airports - a very large bus which can scissors up to a high altitude, like Professor Fate's car. This way they can wheel stuff right in and out through the shuttle's hatch, which may have been necessary with Andy Thomas, the astronaut returning home after four months in orbit on Mir. I hear some fear Colonel Glenn will leave the shuttle the same way, "on a stretcher".

How many journals would be called "My So-Called Life" if it hadn't been a TV show? And despite (or because of) that production, there is at least one. (Note - this is not a recommendation.)

Glossary:
GSFC - Goddard Space Flight Center