"Procrastination is the art of keeping up with yesterday."
--Don Marquis (1878-1937)

For all its myriad boons, the Electric Internet is pernicious in one particular--it has enhanced my tendency to avoid doing what must be done. Sue's daughter and granddaughters are coming for a stay one week from Tuesday, and the house is in deplorable condition. Susan and I have become web-addicts in the eight weeks since we became citizens of the New Century. Not that I was conscientious about cleaning when I was still living in the analog universe--but this is much, much worse. My new obsession, besides reading Bartcop, is drooling over the fountain pens and typewriters on e-bay. I love pens and old typewriters--and the virtual garage sale offers DOZENS of items to covet. I'm a sick man. Miss September? The Frederick's of Hollywood catalogue? Forget it. Who needs porn when there are full-color photos of old Smith Premiers, and Olivers, and Parker Duofolds? Sometimes the dishes sit in the sink for days while I scour the web for new beauties. The irony is just too obvious--the digital world has made me the uber-analog guy. And, as I type this, I'm listening the my favorite music show, "The Big Broadcast" on WFUV.org--1920s and 30s music, played off old 78s! And still the kitchen floor languishes, unmopped.

Yes, I'll get around to it. I must, of course. It would be most unpleasant for the Board of Health to issue a citation just as the girls are arriving. Yet here sits the computer, with its come-hither glow and promises of new treasures, just waiting for me to log on. . .