The following is a newsletter sent out by Bruce Cameron.
This edition which is so recent it isn't on his website yet, is
quite funny in places.
The Cameron Column # 167
A FREE Internet Newsletter brought to you by W. Bruce Cameron, who
now has 10% lower cholesterol and 75% more beef cravings!
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Write to me at Br...@wbrucecameron.com
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Now in its sixth printing! Just so you know, my book, "8 Simple
Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter" is back on the shelves after
depleting the supply in June. If you haven't yet purchased a copy of
this never-to-be-a-classic, you are really not helping with my kids'
college fund. We can't have sold this many if the book is a total
loser, right? So go to my web site to buy a copy immediately! (The
last statement was a hypnotic suggestion. Let me know if it works.)
-- Bruce
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My Global Position
Copyright 2002 W. Bruce Cameron http://www.wbrucecameron.com/
-- The copyright above should never be removed --
For my birthday this year, my family purchased me a GPS, which stands
for "Global Positioning Unit," don't ask me how. It's a little
hand-held device that communicates with a satellite overhead.
"Where's Bruce?" the GPS asks. "Right there," the satellite responds.
As I peer at the tiny display, I can locate where I am within forty
feet of where I am. This can be useful if you're in a part of the
house you don't recognize. Push a button and the display informs you
of where you are in relationship to Denver, to the Konkoly Observatory
in Budapest, and to the planet Neptune. Usually, Denver is closest.
There's a little graph at the bottom of the display. I have no idea
what it is supposed to be tracking, but, like everything else in my
life, it seems to be trending downward.
My GPS is shaped like a small brick and weighs about the same. I'm
supposed to carry it in my pocket when I go hiking so I don't get
lost. (I picture myself whipping out my GPS to calm my children.
"See? We're not lost. The Konkoly Observatory is that way!") After
walking for about ten minutes with this thing in my pocket, I'll have
a Budapest-shaped bruise on my thigh and will have to lie down. So
that's another way the GPS prevents you from getting lost, by causing
you so much pain you never stray too far from your house.
It's supposed to be able to communicate with my computer, though what
they are saying to each other I don't know. Probably the computer
says, "What? You don't crash several times a day? Then how do you
lose important files?" Using special software, I can download maps
into my GPS, which is how I know that there is a Shell station in
Atlanta, Georgia. This isn't a question I wanted to ask, I was just
punching buttons at random and now I've got this Shell station I can't
get rid of. I think I have to go there before my GPS will let me
clear it off the screen. (If you're ever running out of gas in
Atlanta, give me a call and I'll tell you the exact latitude and
longitude of the place.)
If you're a woman, you probably think I ought to read the
instructions to this thing. The owner's manual actually weighs more
than the GPS. If you read the whole book cover to cover, you get a
Ph.D. I've glanced through it and realized I can't read it because it
is written in metric.
I guess I'm sort of concerned that the government spent the money to
put up a satellite just to monitor my whereabouts in the first place.
As I understand from the owner's manual, the satellite in question
hangs in "geo-synchronous orbit", which means it doesn't ever move.
So this thing must be sitting right above my house! With space junk
falling out of the sky all the time, this just gives me another thing
to worry about. I'm assuming my GPS will beep or something if its
satellite becomes weary of holding itself up there and decides to
plummet toward the house of Bruce, giving me and my family time to put
on a helmet and maybe stand in the yard with a tennis racket. I
called my insurance agent to ask him if my policy protected me from
falling geo-synchronous satellites, and he just got irritated with me.
He told me not to worry, which is easy for him to say--he's not the
one with orbiting spacecraft stuck over his head 24 hours a day!
Punching buttons, I've come across a readout that tells me how far
I've gone in life. Not very far, which means the GPS is in agreement
with my father. It also tells me how long it has been since I've
moved off the couch, which is something else I don't need because I
get regular updates on this matter from certain other people. At
least the GPS doesn't have a list of chores for me to do---or if it
does, I haven't found it.
So, if you're ever looking for me, give me a call and I'll be able to
tell you where I am. Well, within 40 feet.
Write the author at br...@wbrucecameron.com
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For reprint permission, including web sites, please write me at
Br...@wbrucecameron.com
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