Have I become surly? I left town for beautiful Adirondacks and spent the weekend on a 110-year-old guideboat. It was a clear and windy weekend, and someone's dock was floating around the lake of its own will. Much as the speedboaters are an annoying breed, I figured it was too much punishment to have them die by slamming into a half-submerged floating dock, so I towed the thing with this rowboat, one inch at a time, to the side of the lake. Then, still exhausted, I come across an earnest bearded couple (she was bearded too) next to a canoe; actually the canoe was one inch from sunk, and the travellers were treading water in their pants and sneakers, trying to save their Nikon from drowning. Well so here was tow-job number two. Part of me felt heroic, but once I got canoe to shore (it was like trying to drag an elephant), I got surly; the couple thanked me and I just nodded and kept rowing. Later on I felt bad--shouldn't I have given them a big smile and "it could've happened to anyone"? No. It was more fun to be surly. What does this have to do with Belle and Sebastian? Nothing, except I came home to so much Sinister mail, I had to write back (fight back?) --Vladimari ----------------------------------------------------------------------- . This message was brought to you by the Sinister mailing list. . To send to the list please mail "sinister@majordomo.net". . For subscribing, unsubscribing and other list information please see . http://www.majordomo.net/sinister . For questions about how the list works mail owner-sinister@majordomo.net . Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa -----------------------------------------------------------------------