On 30 June 2010, the FSB broke into my office again. They unplugged the Internet, opened the window and left the phone off the hook, placing it next to my laptop. The message was clear: we are still here.
I ended up getting drafted by the Colorado Rockies on June 8, 2010 and the next day, my dad passed away, in June 9, 2010. So I'm at the biggest high of my life on June 8th. And the next day, June 9th, he's gone.
If I'm naughty, I'm grounded for two weeks or Mum takes my phone and my laptop because she knows I can't live without them. Sometimes I'll say, 'Mum, do you just want to take my laptop?' because I can still use the Internet on my phone. But now she's going to read this and see what I've been doing.
The first cellphone I owned was hardly a slim, high-tech device - it was more like a brick with buttons, only with worse reception. If you wanted to use your phone to give someone a message, you were better off throwing it at him and hoping you broke his car window.
Let's say I go completely broke, I'm about to star in the next '30 for 30: Broke.'
And I certainly like being on a plane, next to a stranger, having conversations that you'd never otherwise have. You're unplugged, your phone doesn't work, you're not online.
I begin to cut myself off in a digital shutdown at about 10 P.M. Phone, laptop, and iPad go down. If I'm at home, I'll leave my laptop and iPad in the living room. Those things don't go into my bedroom at all.
I start every morning at 7 or 7:30 in the same place - my little office where it's dark and cozy - with a cup of the same really strong black coffee. It's my little cocoon. There's no phone or fax or Internet. And no music.
I left the Pumpkins in 2010, and I just took a year off to hang with my family and be with my daughter and my son and my wife, and just get acclimatised to being off the road. Then I started looking at what was going to be the next part of my career/legacy, whatever you want to call it.
You don't want to be on a show that no one wants to see, and then think your phone is going to be ringing off the hook to do other jobs. I'm not tethered to the fact that my demise may be reached this season or next season, or whatever.
I do feel immigration will probably be dealt with as long as [the solution] doesn't provide amnesty ... Five years ago, all hell broke loose ... This year, I thought phones would ring off the hook again. They really haven't. I think everybody realizes we have a problem.
Five or ten years ago, when it was clear the Internet was becoming a mainstream phenomenon, it was equally clear that a lot of people were being left out and could be left behind
Five or ten years ago, when it was clear the Internet was becoming a mainstream phenomenon, it was equally clear that a lot of people were being left out and could be left behind.
Dave hung up. And unplugged the phone. With a fierce and bitter pain he stared at it, watching how, over and over again, it didn't ring.
When the government is handed over to the Iraqi Council on 30 June, many have declared, oh, the Americans must never leave because civil unrest may erupt. Well, I agree, we cannot abruptly depart, but Iraq needs to step up to the plate on 30 June.
I'm a morning person because I learned to write my novels while still practicing law. I would get to the office at 6:30 a.m. and write until other people arrived, around 9. Now I still do that. I start at 6:30 or 7, and I'll write until 11, then take an hour off, then work until about 2 p.m. By then my brain has had enough.
When God closes a door, he opens a window. Yeah. The problem was that this particular window opened off the tenth story, and he wasn't so sure God supplied parachutes.