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Sunday, December 11, 2005

Ferry Time

Dolled up to the nines for some job interview, I'm strolling easy down to the ferry til I see the last of the cars driving on, at which I sprint.

The ferry clock is 2 mins ahead of my fancy-pants chronograph that tells me when I'm down to 20,000 leagues and the time and wind chill in Botswana.

I sit there trying to figure out do I hold down buttons A and D while pressing F for precisely 3.2 seconds while clicking E when the light flashes.

Friendly father of 3 up from CA, showing his kids around: "That one of those atomic gizmos, lose a nano-second every thousand years? Forget it, the ferry clock's fast. "

Don't care.

Even if my Maker tells me "This is My time and thou shalt have no other brazen timepieces save they record My hour, yea unto the final Day of Judgment ...", I'm going give to Him lip:

"Whatever, Big Guy, but my time stays *ferry* time, yea unto not missing that 4:35 bâteau home."

"Hmm, point taken, My child. St Peter - advance Time by 2 minutes."

"Dang, Lord, that gone take some fixing - tides 'n' all, ya know? But OK, You Da Man. Your Son!, but Your ways sho' mysterious."

"I know, I know. (Sigh) Pain inna Butt. Is weird even to Me and don't even get Me started on that whole Pre-destination lark."

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