Bummed.

I suppose it was inevitable.

Liked this One

"Pass by peacefully and go a stainless way, free from theories, lusts and dogmas."

--Majjhima Nikaya

Doctor's Thinking...

Pneumonia.

Well that's just great.

Smile Matt.

Due Date:

9.24.06

Here we go.

I'm Hot-Blooded

101.6

What I Heard...

Was that the "Lost Blog" was crashing lots of browsers, so I've taken it down.

Better?

Holly Beat Me To This One...

But serioulsy, are you reading this guy?

The Lost Blog Went Like This

Just rocked the Hoo-Hoo to sleep for his afternoon nap. That's fun. He let me sleep in 'til nearly nine this morning. Life here is good.

More from the book

There's a list here that could only have been written at an elders meeting. A little pyramid of words written inside a coffee ring:

savings
chairs flooring
debt missions bell tower

Trying to decide what to do with money, which is a thing worth doing.

Then a line from a Groucho Marx song:

Show me a rose or leave me alone.

Probably it's funnier in the context of the intentionally overly-poetic song. I've been a Marx Brothers fan since college. It bothers my buddy Matt that I don't dig a lot of what passes for cinematic comedy these days, but you can't beat the work those guys did from 1930-37.

Then a line I must have heard on the jukebox at The Comet. (I don't go there anymore -- Monday mornings come early.)

I'm gonna sell my Cadillac and buy myself a mule

I think it's Johnny Drummer, but I don't dig The Blues enough to have pursued it any further.

After that there's some computer gibberish that probably indicates that I was talking to people trying to figure out how to buy a computer. Apparently I should have gone with the Mac Justin tried to convince me to buy then. And then a line from (what was at the time) the new Indigo Girls record:

Come on home,
The team you're hitched to has a mind of its own

I like them.

The name of a minor league baseball team (10 days 'til pitchers and catchers) whose field we used to pass on our way to visit the Gills in Pittsburgh -- the Washington Wild Things. They're much closer now -- the Gills, not the Wild Things -- and that makes me happy.

An album from Ruthie's childhood, which I finally broke down and got for her very recenlty -- Europe's The Final Countdown. She'd mentioned it in passing years ago and when I gave it to her a couple months ago she said, "I hope you didn't pay very much for this. I love her.

There's a list. I like lists.

1. e-mail Lee
2. get a paper
3. write something

1. Remember Lee?
2. I only buy a newspaper once a year, so this had to have been written in March.
3. If I'm right about #2, what I wrote must've looked like this.

I wrote myself a note to ask Drew about Luke, which I suppose I did, and then I quoted somthing a lady at work had said. I don't remember the context now, but she'd received some attention -- probably an Associate of the Month award or something -- and wasn't sure what to do with it. She said,

"I feel famous -- like Steve Martin."

Now, without my saying anything about her age, the fact that in the Spring of 2004 Steve Martin was her frame of reference for celebrity dates her and was downright endearing.

And because Life is like this, you turn the page and it gets heavy again. Rebecca asked:

How can you teach someone something that only God can teach them?"

And then I, in preparation for one of those talks I used to give, spewed up a fragment of a very long sentence:

revivalistic emotinalism and religious ritualism that sometimes border on superstition and an individualistic, behavior-oriented approach to God/faith that makes me and "how I'm doing" (my "growth") the center of things

(Yeah, I have issues.)

That one I ended up using.

I also followed it (in the book at least) with:

I am in as much danger of missing the point as anyone

Probably that's enough of the book for now. Two P.S.'s, three more things:

1. Have we talked about the acoustic version of Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill? It's incredible.

2. I love Vienna Teng.

3. My computer sucks. It's taken me days to get this published.

Worked Late Tonight

It's after midnight, I'm working on a Cab and listening to the Allman Brothers doing "Melissa." (If you don't know that one, check it out).

Could be worse.

test

Drat

I wrote this big long thing yesterday -- somehow it even showed up long enough for Ted to comment on it, though I didn't realize it had ever published successefully, and I tried about a million times -- and now I don't know where it is.

My problem or Blogger's?

I'm guessing mine.

Justin, it may be time.

Superbowl-wise

This is big.

We Like Bono Around Here

'Cause of stuff like this.

I Really Like My Life

Spent the Morning with Sam

He's three-and-a-half now. Some highlights:

Me: Sam, Baby Gehrig doesn't know any words. What're we gonna do?

Sam: Teach him some.

Me: Which words should we teach him?

Sam: TRAIN, TRAIN, TRAIN!

I got up to get that one on paper, (for those of us who are around him regularly it's perfect,) and when he saw me with my legal pad he asked what I was doing.

Me: Writing a little story.

Sam: So you can teach a class?

Me: Sure.

Sam: Maybe you can teach me this lesson.

Then I had to pee, which is something I always like to announce to whomever is around.

Me: I'm gonna take a whiz.

Sam: EXCUSE ME! EXCUSE ME! You're going to tinkle in the pipe!

Then it was his turn.

Me: You just peed all over the wall.

Sam: Why?

Me: Because you weren't looking where you were going.

Sam: That's a little strange.

What do you say to that?

One more:

Me: Sam, do you get spanked at home?

Sam: Yes.

Me: Why?

Sam: If I'm bad.

Me: What do you do that's bad?

Sam: If I hit Cassie.

Me: Why do you hit Cassie?

Sam: I'm a bad guy.

Thank You Bradley!

It's called "Entrance of the Gladiators."