Marc
As the little turtle, when the egg hatches on the sea shore instinctively makes for the water, so these beaten races of earth instinctively turn to the head of the government as the great father. -- John Higham in Strangers in the Land: Patterns of American Nativism, 1860-1925
One. Did anyone catch Elvis Costello hosting David Letterman's show this evening? Normally, I wouldn't watch, but the digital cable said "Hosted By Elvis Costello", so I tuned in. It was very strange to see one Brit interview another Brit (Eddie Izzard) on an American television program. Damned redcoats. Costello was a little apprehensive, as he well should've been, I'm sure. He pulled it off, though. How could you not with Eddie Izzard in the guests' chair. That's one funny transvestite. And, finally, thumbs up-sa-mooses to Mitch Hedberg, the other comedian on the program. That's one funny guy.
Two. I spent all day reading about automobiles and how they re-shaped American cities. I'd like to say that it was interesting, but both my brain and my fingers are screaming "No it wasn't!" Oh well. I could've done less productive things with my time -- like scraped mayonnaise out of the bottom of the old mayonnaise jar, or flipped a quarter for three hours straight and kept track of how many times it landed on either heads or tails (or on its side), or even went outside to measure the length of the grass in the front lawn every hour on the hour to see if grass grows during the day or at night only. But I didn't. I just read.
Three. Without sounding like a sap, I would like to say that it's nice to hear about good news from time to time, like that Utah girl being found alive this afternoon. I'm kind of glad I was home when the story broke, cause my mom was running around the house, shushing everyone as she turned all the television stations to the news and kept saying, "oh, this is so great! They found that poor little girl!" If only a majority of cases like this ended this way, my mom would probably be excited more often. As it stood this afternoon, she was excited enough to stand in the kitchen and listen to the news conferences as she cooked me a free meal. Maybe I'd get more free food if more kidnapped kids were found more often. That's a terrible thing to say. I know.
Four. My mom also told me that a girl I had briefly dated in high school was in the paper this afternoon announcing her engagement to some guy. I didn't recognize the girl's name at first, but realized after a brief reminder of who she was that this was the girl I broke up with because her thumbs were too short and too stumpy for me to touch when we held hands. Judge me if you will, but you must know that I can be a young George Costanza when I want to be. I even have the shoes. This was a nice girl, as far as I knew, but those thumbs -- ugh, it's hard to put into words the things that went through my head when my thumbs rubbed up against hers. In a related twist, I came to find out during the course of our coupling that my dad and her dad knew each when they were both in high school. My dad even beat the shit out of her dad once. How's that for kicking a dead horse? A guy beats up another guy, then he has a son that dumps that other guy's daughter. For love of family. That's what I've always said.
Up Next: The second half of Perfecting Loneliness by Jets to Brazil.
Tomorrow: Reading, copy machines, and my one and only.
As the little turtle, when the egg hatches on the sea shore instinctively makes for the water, so these beaten races of earth instinctively turn to the head of the government as the great father. -- John Higham in Strangers in the Land: Patterns of American Nativism, 1860-1925
One. Did anyone catch Elvis Costello hosting David Letterman's show this evening? Normally, I wouldn't watch, but the digital cable said "Hosted By Elvis Costello", so I tuned in. It was very strange to see one Brit interview another Brit (Eddie Izzard) on an American television program. Damned redcoats. Costello was a little apprehensive, as he well should've been, I'm sure. He pulled it off, though. How could you not with Eddie Izzard in the guests' chair. That's one funny transvestite. And, finally, thumbs up-sa-mooses to Mitch Hedberg, the other comedian on the program. That's one funny guy.
Two. I spent all day reading about automobiles and how they re-shaped American cities. I'd like to say that it was interesting, but both my brain and my fingers are screaming "No it wasn't!" Oh well. I could've done less productive things with my time -- like scraped mayonnaise out of the bottom of the old mayonnaise jar, or flipped a quarter for three hours straight and kept track of how many times it landed on either heads or tails (or on its side), or even went outside to measure the length of the grass in the front lawn every hour on the hour to see if grass grows during the day or at night only. But I didn't. I just read.
Three. Without sounding like a sap, I would like to say that it's nice to hear about good news from time to time, like that Utah girl being found alive this afternoon. I'm kind of glad I was home when the story broke, cause my mom was running around the house, shushing everyone as she turned all the television stations to the news and kept saying, "oh, this is so great! They found that poor little girl!" If only a majority of cases like this ended this way, my mom would probably be excited more often. As it stood this afternoon, she was excited enough to stand in the kitchen and listen to the news conferences as she cooked me a free meal. Maybe I'd get more free food if more kidnapped kids were found more often. That's a terrible thing to say. I know.
Four. My mom also told me that a girl I had briefly dated in high school was in the paper this afternoon announcing her engagement to some guy. I didn't recognize the girl's name at first, but realized after a brief reminder of who she was that this was the girl I broke up with because her thumbs were too short and too stumpy for me to touch when we held hands. Judge me if you will, but you must know that I can be a young George Costanza when I want to be. I even have the shoes. This was a nice girl, as far as I knew, but those thumbs -- ugh, it's hard to put into words the things that went through my head when my thumbs rubbed up against hers. In a related twist, I came to find out during the course of our coupling that my dad and her dad knew each when they were both in high school. My dad even beat the shit out of her dad once. How's that for kicking a dead horse? A guy beats up another guy, then he has a son that dumps that other guy's daughter. For love of family. That's what I've always said.
Up Next: The second half of Perfecting Loneliness by Jets to Brazil.
Tomorrow: Reading, copy machines, and my one and only.
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