Monday, July 1, 43 A.B.
I Smelled Better As A Child (And Other Poorly Phrased Revelations You Probably Don't Need To Read)
What's this?! A NEW month is knocking at my door before I've straightened up my brain and cleared off a space on my cerebellum for it to come on in and sit down on? ACK!
Excuse me while I hastily sweep a few leftover June thoughts under a big entry title before July discovers what a terrible mindkeeper I am and refuses to have anything to do with me.
A Big Crumbled Thought From Last Night: It suddenly occurred to me last night that I smelled better as a child. And by that I mean to say my nose worked better. I was standing in our hot, dark, damp garage (for reasons which now escape me) and for a brief second I was reminded of a hot, dark, damp place of my childhood - a basement, not a garage, but that really doesn't matter. What matters is that for that brief second, I seemed more alive - more conscious - than I usually am. Why? Because the aroma seemed fresh, intense, and more fully in my nose than most aromas ever are anymore but once upon a time always were. It's as if my nostrils have slowly but steadily clouded over with cataracts over the last 30 years and last night one cataract stepped out for a smoke and allowed me to smell clearly again for the first time in ages. That cataract almost immediately returned and the aroma fell away from me - kinda like my wife used to do when her parents unexpectedly entered their family room - but the memory endures. A memory which reminded me that I used to be more in touch with hot, dark, damp places than I am now - and than I am ever likely to be again unless my cable provider starts offering The Hot, Dark, Damp Places Channel as part of its basic service. *Sigh*
A Not So Big Crumbled Observation From Yesterday Morning: I was reading the newspaper - the part that lists the week's best-selling books as determined by Publisher's Weekly - when I noticed that for at least the second week in a row Marlo Thomas' The Right Words At The Right Time was included on this list. It's available from Atria Books, the list told me - and for just $25 raised to the 6th power. Yes, that's right - there was a little 6 next to the upper right tip of the 5 in $25. And for the second week in a row, too. Which I guess means that Marlo's book really has reached 4th place on the bestseller's list despite costing $244,140,625 a copy. Why, that's more than 20 times what they paid Ann Landers for putting up with a whole year's worth of idiotic letter writers! I guess there really IS no justice, eh, Ann? On the bright side, I guess the economy is doing MUCH better than I thought if people can afford to pay that much for one book. If *I* could afford to pay that much for Marlo's book, maybe I'd now know the right words to say for a time like this. As it is, the only thing that comes to mind is "phooey." I know, I know - not very polished or sophisticated, but it's heart-felt, I assure you.
A Sticky Insight My Mind Accidentally Stepped In On Saturday Afternoon That I'm Only Now Getting Around To Scraping Off: The news media tells me that the doctors were looking for polyps when President Bush underwent a colonoscopy, but I think that's mere disinformation. I think they were actually looking for Osama bin Laden. After all, they've looked for him every place else without success. If YOU were becoming increasingly desperate to find the guy and YOU had a bunch of equipment suitable for searching caves just lying around, what would YOU do?
Oh, And While I'm On The Subject Of My Having Smelled Better As A Child... Rene Descartes is famous for saying "I think, therefore I am." If you ever get a chance to examine his original writings as I did last night in my dreams, however, you'll find that what he actually said was "I stink, therefore I am. After all, whilst it is possible to doubt everything else that I see, hear, or otherwise perceive, I find that, try as I might, it is simply impossible for me to doubt that I stink (being stuck as I am in the extremely unhygienic 1600s and all); and because it has been conclusively proven that non-existent things do not and cannot stink, it follows that my stench proves my existence as nothing else can. In fact, I believe I currently exist all the way to high heaven." Philosophers and professors conspired to change Descartes' stink to think after they discovered that few universities were willing to pay them to sit around sniffing each other.
A Leftover Revelation From June 17: If I stop cutting my grass and just let it grow long, I can comb it over all the bare spots in my lawn and save myself the expense of having to go out and buy it an Astro-Turf toupee!!
An Odd Pile Of Dung That Was Left In A Corner Of My Open Mind When I Wasn't Looking: Columnist Cal Thomas says many people will conclude that the judges who recently decided that the Pledge of Allegiance is unconstitutional inflicted a greater injury on the United States than the Sept. 11 terrorists. I guess this means that if President Bush orders airstrikes on the 9th U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals or starts rounding up judges and detaining them in secret, we really shouldn't be surprised.
Why The Solstice Made Me Twitch: Summer began just over a week ago on what learned types affectionately refer to as the Summer Solstice. I celebrated the occasion by going out and pounding a stake into the ground at the northernmost tip of the shadow cast by my barn's roof at noon. I thought I might hit the stake I pounded into the ground at the northernmost tip of the shadow cast by my barn on the Winter Solstice six months ago, but no - that stake turned out to be 22' 7" to the north-northeast. This means that either the sun or my stakes have been out there creeping around at the rate of nearly 4' a month or more than an inch a day, day after day, month after month. Is it any wonder that I am unable to concentrate enough to clean my bathroom floor when this kind of stuff is going on out there, right outside my back door?!?!
But enough for now. July is starting to bang VERY insistently on my door. If I don't go now it just might mar the paisley-pattern finish like last year - ACK!
Last Home Next
(©Now by DJ Birtcher while simultaneously
crossing and uncrossing his legs for
NO apparent reason - AMAZING but TRUE!!!)
P.S. - It has come to my attention that not everyone on my notify list has been receiving the notifies I send out. It has even come to my attention that I myself am one of these people. I now have a funny feeling that it is about to come to my attention that my notify provider - Topica - is yet one more shitty little unreliable free service I would do well to abandon. Does this make me psychic or what??