i woke up. the phone was ringing. it was far too dark to tell where i was. i think part of being human is trying to understand where you are. i tried hard to think about it. but a few minutes later i fell back asleep completely comfortable with the fact that i had no idea where i was or why i was there.
then a curtain opened.
"what do you see?" i asked to the dark room.
"we are missing it. it is pink and blue." bruce said.
i was looking for a little more general answer.
but as the curtain opened i answered my own question. i saw the teal and fuschia blankets of a motel 8. by 6:36 i was bonging a bowl of fruit loops from the continental breafast in the lobby. by 8:20 i was walking past 130 degree kettles of hydrochloric acid with earplugs and a hard hat on. i am now at a computer in the stark county library. i only know that because i just asked the girl sitting beside me.
"i have never been asked that question in here before," she just said.
"i think part of being human is trying to understand where you are," i said back.
Posted by Todd Roeth at May 14, 2003 01:23 PMPrada and I took a 3 hour nap yesterday. The weather is beautiful in Athens. Courtside was slow last night. I have cotton mouth right now. I sent my first resume on Monday. I might go golfing tomorrow. She's thinking about staying another day to see you---you made the right decision to go.
Posted by: "P" at May 14, 2003 01:56 PMI would like to take credit for your capacity to think and ponder so well, but I think you developed that on your own. I am enjoying your journal. Amazing how lives are intertwined.
But don't forget that if you are interested in eating or waking up in the Roeth Bed and Breakfast, reservations would be appreciated! Give us a call! Hope you can fit us in.
Love, Mom
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THE PARKING PROBLEM IN PARIS: Jean-Luc Godard, 1971, 7 hours 18 min.
Godard's meditation on the topic has been described as
everything from "timeless" to "endless." (Remade by Gene
Wilder as NO PLACE TO PARK.)
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may all of you never receive an honorary degree in
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A Milhouse Divided
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Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
And he didn't leave much for Ma and me,
Just and old guitar an'a empty bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him 'cause he ran and hid,
But the meanest thing that he ever did,
Was before he left he went and named me Sue.
...
But I made me a vow to the moon and the stars,
I'd search the honkey tonks and the bars,
And kill the man that give me that awful name.
It was Gatlinburg in mid-July,
I'd just hit town and my throat was dry,
Thought I'd stop and have myself a brew,
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
ew,Sitting at a table, dealing stud,
Sat that dirty (bleep) that named me Sue.
...
Now, I knew that snake was my own sweet Dad,
From a wornout picture that my Mother had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye...
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And he didn't leave much for Ma and me,
Just and old guitar an'a empty bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him 'cause he ran and hid,
But the meanest thing that he ever did,
Was before he left he went and named me Sue.
...
But I made me a vow to the moon and the stars,
I'd search the honkey tonks and the bars,
And kill the man that give me that awful name.
It was Gatlinburg in mid-July,
I'd just hit town and my throat was dry,
Thought I'd stop and have myself a brew,
At an old saloon on a street of mud,
ew,Sitting at a table, dealing stud,
Sat that dirty (bleep) that named me Sue.
...
Now, I knew that snake was my own sweet Dad,
From a wornout picture that my Mother had,
And I knew that scar on his cheek and his evil eye...
-- Johnny Cash, "A Boy Named Sue"
d hi
Albert Camus wrote that the only serious question is whether to kill yourself
or not. Tom Robbins wrote that the only serious question is whether time has
a beginning and an end. Camus clearly got up on the wrong side of bed, and
Robbins must have forgotten to set the alarm.
-- Tom Robbins
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-- Tom Robbins
We know all about the habits of the ant, we know all about the habits of the
bee, but we know nothing at all about the habits of the oyster. It seems
almost certain that we have been choosing the wrong time for studying the
oyster.
-- Mark Twain, "Pudd'nhead Wilson's Calendar"
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-- Homer Simpson
Saturdays of Thunder
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