Mostly random thoughts in my head these days.

Kerry won NH, which gives me hope that beating Bush is possible. Maybe not probable, but possible. I’ve been thinking aboutDean’s supposed meltdown. A while back I realized as an employee of a major hospital, I couldn’t ultimately vote for an MD. I respect a lot about the folks with whom I work, but I’m their administrator. I have to organize stuff for them and create systems to make governance possible. Most of them aren’t committee thinkers, and every now and again there is a burst of background sniping or gossiping, because some moon-sized ego causes a tidal wave and leaves destruction in its wake.

Because I am the office wise guy, I told the our Grand Poobah (a doctor) that no way in hell could I ever vote for a physician on “moral grounds.” Surprisingly, after giving me a goofy eye for the “moral grounds” part of that, she agreed that Dean, as an MD, is probably unfit for president. She went on about how doctors are taught to think and how scientists minds’ work and concluded that they would make crappy politicians. Based only on experience with her and her ilk, I concur. (I can’t remember exactly, but this whole conversation may have preceded the barrage of criticism of Dean. At any rate, it was not germane to it.)

Meanwhile, M. is making his mark with Linux and creating new markets for laptops. By the way, if you read this and you know me and you have some cash to drop, you want to take a look at theLC2210 Centrino-based Linux laptop. It’s pretty fucking sweet, although it’s not as pretty as my Powerbook. (Yes, I’m shallow when it comes to looks.)

Speaking of Linux and being shallow about looks, check this picture out from LinuxWorld:

Man, those dudes were hot, hot, hot! I killed time by playing spot the minority, which is a lot like Where’s Waldo? books.

I had an extra surprise when I got back from NYC on Sunday night. My neighbor knocked on my door with a big package he signed for — a late Christmas present from my sister: . I ain’t never owned a waffle iron before, so I whipped up some batter in my new Kitchenaid mixer and let her rip. Tasty waffle goodness for dinner. When M. comes back to Cambridge, I think our breakfast in bed might be a tad elaborate.

Finally, besides the sheer, unbridled vanity of waiting for my 40th birthday (33 days and counting, per my counter), I’m feeling a bit down about mortality. One of my good friends has a brother who, after what should have been fairly routine surgery, is now struggling at the edge of life because of a lot of unknown health complications. I can’t do anything, and I can’t say anything, but I wish I could. It’s just not easy, any way you look at it. At moments like these, I kind of which I was spiritual, since saying a prayer seems like the natural salve.

Secular humanism fails when all you have to offer is best wishes and offers to help in any way.