kanji

13 December, 2005
Mr. Freeze's Super Air-Conditioned Mountain Hideout

not long after i pried myself from the comforter, after an unaccustomed proper eight hours of sleep, i padded to the stereo. as soon as the tuner lit up, out flowed the perfect enunciation and velvety vibrato of Ella Fitzgerald, singing my favorite song of hers, "Midnight Sun" (if you don't count the duet with Louis Armstrong, "Stars Fell On Alabama"). it wiped away any residual aches from yesterday's fretting... there's something about a beautiful melody sung effortlessly that is the perfect inoculation to mental fatigue.

after a particularly nice, brief chat, i stole a glance out of the sunlit window that had been warming my right foot with the skewed rectangular beam on the floor: a uniform tight twist carpet of blinding white upholstered everything in sight... scattered atop like broken glass, the shorn ice casing of power lines.

so... i wrote that about four days ago. but why waste the chance to mention a good song, for a change? and make a non-bitchy comment about not-quite winter? so out of character, people will think they're at the wrong palace.

Mr. Positive. my new persona.

OK. i lied.

i've been developing a new wrinkle in my lifestyle: reclusiveness. with a heavy dose of OCD. since everything has decided to break, all at once (and there is another document on the desktop, so old that i have no idea when it was written [August], that says the Same Damned Thing), i may now add dryer repair... floor waxing... shrimp scampi... and disturbing French documentaries (le Sang des B�tes) to the list of excuses to avoid contact with humanity. let's also include a premature Ice Age that i would swear in court has been manufactured by the Oil Companies to squeeze a few more billions of Golden Parachute money out of us pobrecitos. when sun go down, Ska "T" build fire.

at least i've got my old friend "Out Of Area" who calls frequently to keep me company.

oh, yes. some sage advice: "separation" means you are still liable for bi-weekly teary requests for cash.
hmmmpf... and, JB said that "It's A Man's Man's Man's World". now i understand the long-distance chase on the shot-out tires. and the mugshot. looks like we go to the same hairdresser, now, Godfather.

ah... there's the snark to which we have become so accustomed!

i kid, for comic effect. a little. there are some kindred spirits out there, who keep me buoyed... though the most important, i've still never laid eyes upon. and Necessity, ever the Mother of Invention, has engaged the gears in my ass occasionally... particularly, stripping and refinishing the kitchen chairs my Finnish granddad built in the late 1920s.

yeah... there's lots of practical applications. but i'm looking forward to some R&R (read reeling&rocking)... the kind of which Bible-Thumpers would condemn me to everlasting brimstone. i'd rather laugh with the Sinners.

come on, tax return.

incidentally, you'll be seeing "Out Of Area" on your cellphone a lot in the near future, and paying for it, unless you contact these guys:

http://www.donotcall.gov/

.


hit me with your rhythm stick




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