I was going through some saved data and I came across an email from December 2003 between me and my wife: (NB: "AR" means anal retentive, a not-unknown affliction amongst scientists and engineers.) It concerned an auction for a MIG fighter on ebay:
Me:
Me:
Honey, I made a small bid on this item. If I win it, will the credit card be able to cover it?
My wife:
Darling,
There is nothing I would enjoy more than to wrap this puppy up and put it under the tree with your name on it. However, I will first have to check to see what kind of turning radius it has. I know you told me one time that since you have been diagnosed with <unimportant disease> you will never realize your dream of becoming a pilot. Therefore, you would have to build a 'driving' track out in the back yard. I have to check with them to see if we can build the track in the available space in the back yard or whether we will have to move the house more to the center of the property so you can drive around and around the house. I will also get the specifications on the actual construction methods because I believe they might be different than just a driveway. (I think I might also want to check with Planning and Zoning about a building permit.)
I, however, can still take those flying lessons. But, you know, the way things are with you, I would only be able to take you up with me a few times. The only thing worse than 'back-seat drivers' is a pushy AR 'back-seat flyer'. I think it might affect my concentration hearing you scream words like 'buzz them!', 'bombs away!', 'strafe them!', 'fire at will!, 'Let ME push the buttons!' I just don't think I could take the pressure.
It breaks my heart that I might never see the glow on your little face as you sit in the back yard with alllll those knobs and buttons right there in front of you, just waiting to be pushed, pulled and turned.
I love you, honey, and I only wish I could help you with this cute little toy. But I am afraid.....(a tear comes to her eye).......that I am going to have to deny you just this one time.....for your own good.
All my love,
<wife's name>
Even though I'm a gray-haired geezer, she still treats me like a kid... Harrumph! There is nothing I would enjoy more than to wrap this puppy up and put it under the tree with your name on it. However, I will first have to check to see what kind of turning radius it has. I know you told me one time that since you have been diagnosed with <unimportant disease> you will never realize your dream of becoming a pilot. Therefore, you would have to build a 'driving' track out in the back yard. I have to check with them to see if we can build the track in the available space in the back yard or whether we will have to move the house more to the center of the property so you can drive around and around the house. I will also get the specifications on the actual construction methods because I believe they might be different than just a driveway. (I think I might also want to check with Planning and Zoning about a building permit.)
I, however, can still take those flying lessons. But, you know, the way things are with you, I would only be able to take you up with me a few times. The only thing worse than 'back-seat drivers' is a pushy AR 'back-seat flyer'. I think it might affect my concentration hearing you scream words like 'buzz them!', 'bombs away!', 'strafe them!', 'fire at will!, 'Let ME push the buttons!' I just don't think I could take the pressure.
It breaks my heart that I might never see the glow on your little face as you sit in the back yard with alllll those knobs and buttons right there in front of you, just waiting to be pushed, pulled and turned.
I love you, honey, and I only wish I could help you with this cute little toy. But I am afraid.....(a tear comes to her eye).......that I am going to have to deny you just this one time.....for your own good.
All my love,
<wife's name>
