You Can Do It To Butter

I don't update this a lot, and there's a reason for that, which I've talked aboot. So, read back and find out.

The word of the day is clarify. I haven't had a conversation where I wasn't asked to explain myself again at least once. Or repeat myself. This is OK. Many people I tried to speak to had headphones on. I should've known they couldn't hear me.

I wrote again today, too. Not a whole lot, but I did. The current infatuation with WoW is shrinking. It's the usual spring wind-up, just like at the new year and in September. And I think I just answered my question as to why New Year's Day, Memorial Day and Labor Day are tied at No. 2 for my favorite holidays.

I Lost My Zen ... Again.

Again, but you didn't know it was lost and found in the first place. That's OK. If you had known, you'd not be who I think you are.

Don Ho died. Saturday. I blogged aboot Vonnegut the day he died, and since then have authorised April 13 to be National Read Something By Vonnegut Day (sponsored by the Church of the God the Utterly Indifferent, or some such). But ... Don Ho died on Saturday, at 76. I never saw his show.

What I remember most that is Don Ho related, besides the Gordon Biersch across the way from a restaurant that bears his name, is my cousin insisting that I had to go see him. He said (I paraphrase), There's nothing more Hawaii than Don Ho. Instinctively, I knew this wasn't true; surely surfing is more Hawaii, or coconuts, or sun tan lotion, or pineapples, or any of the other things a guy from Indiana first thinks of. Not Don Ho. Yes Hula Girl.

But I never saw him. And while a lot of people would agree that there are things more Hawaii than Don Ho, he was certainly something VERY Hawaii.

Anyway. Thought I'd say something, when I can't say anything. But that's what I said. If you've seen my zen, please let me know.

No Cat, No Cradle

Kurt Vonnegut is dead.

I read Douglas Adams and Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman before I read Vonnegut. All of their jacket covers compared them to him. It was inevitable.

What made me start reading Vonnegut was the movie "The Recruit," in which they invented a virus that would have the same effect on the Internet that Vonnegut's Ice-9 would have on the Earth. So I read "Cat's Cradle."

For two solid weeks I read nothing but Vonnegut's work, about eight novels. I thank the Bookend in Boulder for stocking his work ad infinitum. And it affected me in thought, etc., and I wrote a story that hasn't and won't be published. Maybe he changed the way I viewed the world, that someone could come out of Indianapolis, write fiction with so many parallels to his own life, and be known for it. Because as unreal as his books were, they connected so tightly to this world.

Well. That's my Vonnegut story. I wish he was still alive and writing, so when I go on another binge I'll have new material.

God Bless You, Mr. Vonnegut.

Polling for Trooble

I asked random people a coupla days ago the following question:

"Jell-O or nuts?"

The overwhelming majority said, in order, "Huh?" or "Whut?"

American culture is wonderful. Gone are the days of "If my boss says jump, I say, how high?" Now I can't get a straight answer from anyone!

Couch the same question in the following questions, "I'm gonna ask you a very important question." Then, "Can you hear me all right?" And the majority will still say, "Whut?" to your benign question, nevermind that it's meaningless.