I'm impressed with my cable company. Just before I left for Germany, my digital receiver crashed, and it refused to start up again. I unplugged it, hoping that an extended period of downtime would fix the problem. In hindsight, that was a futile hope; these things don't fix themselves, and when I got home tonight the receiver was still dead.

So I call customer support, and while the first representative sloppily promises to call me back (she never does, of course), the second performs voodoo with her keyboard and brings my set-top box back to life. From afar! Like magic!

Yes, all right, I'm easily impressed. Why? Because I'm old. I grew up with one channel and snowy reception, and I still remember playing with the antenna to get a clear signal. And while I've been around technology most of my life, and witnessed the evolution from analog to digital entertainment first hand, there are still things that make me go "whooo" - even when I know better.

Most importantly, though, I really wanted to crash on the couch and watch TV tonight, and the voodoo witch doctor made it possible. Yay.

The flight back from Frankfurt was another one of those Perfect Flights that I expounded on a few weeks ago; I guess I'm enjoying a lucky streak. On time, perfectly smooth, I slept well and had an empty seat next to me. Not only that, but from the time I got off the plane until I was back in my apartment, less than forty-five minutes had passed. Which was impressive.  ¶ 21:40