"AND IF YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS TO SPARE, THEN I'LL TELL YOU THE STORY OF MY LIFE"
I have a little to say about many things. A list:
My friend Hippie split with her hubby. She's taking it well. She is a human being, and it's a hard time for her, but she's also one of the most together and emotionally-healthy people I've ever met, so she is dealing. Oy. Poor thing. But, what was she going to do? Sometimes life deals you an outrageously shitty turn of events and you have to do the right thing, even when it kills you.
My tattoo area is healing nicely. A few folks have seen a photograph of a phase of the process. I'll put something up here (to impress everyone senseless) once it's in a little bit better shape. (For tattoo virgins, fyi, sometimes they look kind of gross for a few days after you get them. Tattoos. Not virgins.)
I finished Jennifer Paddock's Point Clear this morning, which I enjoyed. It was calm, it was familiar, and touching and sentimental and personal. It was like hanging out with an old, calm friend. This author (who I met, sat on a panel with and hung out with a bit in New Orleans a few weeks ago) is also incredibly kind, funny and smart, so that's all the more reason you might just want to buy her book and show her some love. Good book. Good person. There you have it.
I had a painfully fancy dinner thing last night, with seven courses of vegetarian greatness. I wore a suit, even. You'd be impressed! I shot a quick pic when I came in, because, uh, how often is yours truly in the good suit and diamond earrings? Not often. You might not have even believed me had I not thought to create photographic evidence. Anyway, there you have it. I clean up okay.
Midget pARTs is in town from Canada, spreading tons of Canadian cheer around Chicago. I, of course, have benefitted greatly from his arrival in the way of t-shirts and lapel pins. You should hook yourself up there, too. He has marvelous postcards, delightful buttons (I have, easily, two dozen of these), spectacular artwork, and completely wicked awesome t-shirts (I have the Joe Strummer and the Monk ones and have started blatant begging to see if a Morrissey design might one day exist). Again, good person. Good stuff. There you have it.
Tomorrow (Monday), I have a series of pics going up in a Kurt Vonnegut tribute of jackassery. Authors and Their Assholes. So it goes.
9 comments:
TYPO POLICE: It's Joe "Strummer" sweetie
Did you cut your hair? I do love the pic. Can't wait to see your your new tatoo.
Mom
PS I am way tooooo chicken to get a tatoo. All that pain. Besides your dad would FREAK!!!!!
Thanks! I'm a fast-typer, so I thank everyone who points out any typo.
But, being fair... Punctuation wouldn't kill you, Anonymous. Also-- Don't call me "sweetie". Never call me that. Especially if you can't be bothered to leave your name, pookie-wooky sugar pants.
Ma Guth, I cut it a little. But, I am not cutting it again until my next manuscript is finished.
Dad would not freak. Especially if you tattooed his name on your ass. HA!
The Anonymous comment is really fascinating because there is so much to interpret. The person begins by announcing a typo, then the wording "It's Joe 'Strummer'.." and the addition of sweetie infers minor insult (in the way neglegent morons insult because they don't understand any better) as if a person like you wouldn't know who the fuck The Clash is.
I assume this Anonymous is male and you have once again shot-down a dimunitive remark as its writer attempted to dangle a flimsy complement thinking your ego couldn't handle having a typo pointed out. I also assume he is interested/attracted, possibly you know him and alredy shot him down a time or two and HIS ego can't hold up under it all.
Either way, after consulting with my wife and daughter this morning, we have all agreed that the correct way to point out this typo would be to assume that if a person was blogging about someone (especially in this context, of a shirt they own, presumably an icon-bearing garmet they sought to own) that they know who that person is and anyway it is always proper manners to give people the benefit of the doubt. Our conclusion is that Anonymous should have said:
Typo Police: You spelled "Joe Strummer" as "Joe Strumerr (or however you misspelled it originally, as I see you've already corrected it)".
But I don't bear much hope for the future of manners, especially when a gentleman is confronted with a pretty woman, such as you are, Ms. Guth. It seems that the popular choice in that setting these days is to immediately turn to the way we behaved in preschool and clobber a woman with something (like a too-intimate name or an insult, and ha in this case both) to try to disarm her, instead of just being a nice guy.
Being a nice guy worked for me-- My wife and I have been married for 17 years this fall. So, I'm proof that manners work.
Wow, thank you Oreo George. All excellent points that I appreciate you taking the time to make. Congratulations on your marriage. She's lucky to have such a thoughtful husband.
Agreed--oreo george would win my vote for comment of the day! :)
Hope your friend is managing okay. And major props, yet again, on the tattoo!!
Take it easy Oreo.....
I am in fact just messing with Ms. Guth. I understand her to be not only one hell of an intelligent woman, but also the type to cringe at being called "sweetie".
I added "sweetie" in the tone of my high school lunch lady, who sported a gigantic beehive hairdo, granny glasses, and who ,most importantly for our story here, addressed everybody as "sweetie"(GASP-both boys AND girls!!!). I understand the interpretation of my tone to be impossible in text, so the humor was mine alone to appreciate....but I assure you it's no more than harmless messing with Ms. Guth, as mentioned above.
So settle down big fella, give your daughter a gold star, kiss your wife, and know that your defense of the presumed-to-be-defenseless (in this case Ms. Guth) was not necessary. You are a good & decent man, but ease off that hair-trigger. I mean no harm.
As for my attraction, I would totally have kicked a young Ms. Guth in the shin, in hopes she would chase me around the playground.
I shall now be known as....(drumroll please)...CAPTAIN ANONYMOUS!!!! (insert dramatic 50's movie music) DAH-DAH DAAAAHHH!!!
i will hook you up with a morrisey tee (hopefully in time for the concert in may, which i presume you will be attending) so much to do when i get back yet you women of chicago won't release me back to the wilds of canada...
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