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Tri-Fi Acronymity With my newly returned license from the DMV, I couldn’t decide which car to take to the airport, my BMW, or my SUV. Couldn’t go in the ATV. My BMX was out of the question, and so were my classics: My LTD, my GTO, my AMC Rambler, and my beater GMC truck. My LNG-powered retired city bus was in the shop. I’d get better MPG and higher MPH with the 525. And it didn’t need any STP. So I took it, punched up some RPMs, and hit the freeway’s HOV lane. OK, sure, I was in that lane, driving alone. I was still excited about my new DVR-equipped RCA LED with a gazillion DPI: FYI, VCR, you’re DOA, and DVDs, so are you. A little background. I’d been MIA from my scene for a long time. I’d been a PFC caught DUI, a.k.a., DWI, you know, for testing out a hellish BAC. But the FBI, CIA and the KGB were convinced there was more involved, with things like THC, LSD and UFOs. So I’d been catching up on my R&R and PDQ I was glued to the tube, watching cable: NBC, ABC, CBS, TBS, BBC, USA, TNT, QVC, CNN, HBO, UPN, MTV, SAP. Oh, and the sports: the NFL’s AFC and NFC, there’s NBA, MLB, PGA, CFL. It was LOL. But all this checking on RBIs, ERAs and betting on who’ll be MVP makes my wife crazy. And when my sports mania collides with her PMS, It’s CYA – uh, I mean (don’t laugh) CMA. So I’m cruising on the diamond lane thinkin’ about whether it’s really worth it to get a GED, an MBA, a PHD. But I’d need a good GPA and an SAT to go to USC. Then maybe I could be a CPA, a CFO, or even a CEO. I could get a loan from the SBA, get a DBA, be an LLC. I could do a PPO, LBO, IPO an M&A, tell all to the SEC, and set up an IRA. With a good HMO, I could get EKGs, EEGs. And if I tore up my ACL I could get an MRI. Hell, if the business took off, I’d be helping the GNP and maybe even the GDP. But next to watching cable, I knew my heart was more into cooking meat on the BBQ for a hungry crowd. From my POV, the most FAQ should be this: Is it more important to be a VIP who’s a profit-making SOB or one who gives TLC? As I pondered this question on the way to JFK I stopped for some KFC, and wondered: Should I start a B&B? I could serve FDA-approved MSG-free BLTs and PBJs , each with an RDA of protein and other good stuff. Guests could listen to my sound system playing BTO, ELO, REM and R&B. Old SNL reruns could be on the screen. Or I could just go to work at REI. At the airport, my posted ETA for LAX was confusing. The times were in both EST and PST. Why not throw in MST and CST, I grumbled. I
asked
the
lady
how
long
the
flight
was.
All
flight
info
was
TBA,
she
said,
FAA
rules.
Apparently
my
flight
was
on
an
old
TWA
SST
heading
in
from
SFO
and
DFW
on
VFR.
It’ll
be
a
crowded
flight
she
said,
could
be
SRO,
as
she
looked
me
over
with
snake
eyes,
like
I
just
sent
in
an
SOS,
was
in
dire
need
of
a
shave
and
an
ESL
course.
BFD,
I
said
taking
a
seat,
fishing
out
my
PDA
and
my
GPS,
wishing
I
had
an
ISP
to
feed
me
a
DSL
on
an
IBM
CPU
with
plenty
of
RAM. Had
to be UPS.
There was
one more
test to
take. Yep,
the heck
with my
flight. I drove back to the DMV.
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