what did i uncork?

now, all the babble that has been roaming around inside my head is trying to get out, all at once.

it's like one of the pesky, bratty thoughts, yelled, "FIRE", and all the others are looking for any escape route.


books:
yea, we all got em,

some of us still buy them and read them.
although like everything else today, the 'substance' of books seems to be strictly their thoughts, not the cover and page setup of old.
(is that a bad idea, in certain ways have we distilled them down to just the essential?)

now i download my books, like i download my music.

it's easier to carry around, it doesn't hurt as much when i fall asleep and it falls onto my face.
and when i do fall asleep, i don't lose my place?

is the kindle doing to bookmarks what john Kennedy did to hats?



but still, with this year being what it has been, how could i not go for the "how to go on living when someone you love dies".

i forgot the basic premise, it's yet another self-help book.

i think the only self-help book left to write would be, "chicken soup for your chicken soup", because it's all been done and redone, and watered down so far that it all makes the red and white labeled stuff look gourmet!
(and believe me, having been born in soup-town, i'm not putting down the company that keeps on souping.)
one of my faves will always be that nice, smooth, tomato variety that goes so well with a good old grilled american cheese sandwich.

an aside: (isn't that all this is?)
once, in a bar, in toronto, when ordering a burger, i asked for american cheese. - ok sneer if you must.
the lady taking our order, kind of looked at me funny, then the lights went on.
"oh, you mean processed cheese" (long 'O' sound)
"we call that Kraft Plastic cheese"

i went for swiss.


back to the books,
i think i'm going to partner with the older, artistic bodmo' brother and come up with the ultimate self-help book.
pop-up book.
each page will contain a single platitude, (and some with the fancier duck-billed platitudes), and
as you read it, a cardboard hand will rise from the page, slapping you in the forehead with a loud 'duh' sound.

how DO you go on living when someone you love has died.

the same way you go on living:

• when someone you love is getting close to the end
• when someone you love (and you) are blissfully ignorant of just how short a time you have left together.

you put one foot in front of the other, you hope for the best, you take what you get.
you have good days, you have bad days,
you have days where you think things can't possibly get any worse, and they do.
or the days when there is no way but down, and suddenly, out of nowhere, there is such a blinding, bright, warm flash of sunshine that you can't help but say, "this is what it's all about"

you go on by remembering things that live inside you.

when you dump the laundry basket of towels on the bed and stop to think...
"what is that special folding technique that she came up with that is the only way to get all the towels in that little closet.

you go on by whatever means you have,
often, pop culture generated?

Red to Andy: "get busy living, or get busy dying"

at times like this, the old rolling stones song, "you can't always get what you want" comes to mind.
although now it always brings me to 'the big chill", especially since the other week's perfect recreation of the glenn close shower scene, after an afternoon of clearing away old hair brushes, perfume, oils, lotions, night guards, and all the other essentials that aren't any longer.

it's like when you finally realize you can't spend the entire day on the couch, and you sit up and say to yourself,
"now what are you going to do, dumb ass"
(celebrity voice supplied by Kurtwood Smith)

like every single day since you can remember.