Testing, testing

Apologies for the brief break for major household drama. As my son Mr. C would say, when the you know what hits the fan around Glenmoore... "DRAMA TV"....

Actually, the drama probably has a bunch of acts. I hope that perhaps we'll have a little intermission.

But one result of our latest household teen challenge is that I have installed, with some sadness for her lost childhood innocence (when did she lose it?) and my shaken trust, NetNanny on our household computers.

The problems we are having are spilling out, a daisy chain of revelations and consequences, as the scale of the loss of life in Haiti become evident. In other words, our domestic turmoil is of almost no importance on the grand scale.

So I send money to Haiti, because right now my tired mind doesn't have room to ponder what else I can do at the moment.

I hired NetNanny because I know I'm not smart enough to track the DQ and because I want to have other conversations with her.

NetNanny blocks the Internet shoestore Zappo's, apparently because Zappos stocks intimate apparel. Ha! Wanna talk intimate apparel?

I have a feeling that the internet service is going to act as a mirror to me and my PG viewing habits -- possibly exposing vices I didn't even know I had.

It is funny to see my colleague blogger Dadshouse blocked for adult content, though. Clean it up, Mott!

Happily, I know the password.