H: 9/12/02

Work Diary, 9/12/02

Some ruminations:

1. The other night we were watching a nature program in which the
narrator described the polluted, crappy, human-infested environment of
some crabs as "extreme." I'm sick of hearing that word to describe
things. If the crabs really were "extreme," one of them would turn into
some sort of godzilla-esque monster and clean the place up. I think we
can thank purveyors of "extreme sports" for the overuse of the word.
Quite frankly, from what I've seen of such sports, the term "extreme
suicidal stupidity" would be far more accurate.

2. When I do my long drive home in the evening, I often switch radio
channels. Sometimes I end up on country music stations, and other times
on techno/hip hop/rave 'til you drop fare. Strangely, I'm beginning to
see a similarity between the two types of music: The songs begin to
sound eerily the same (respective to their own genres, of course). I
can tolerate the techno stuff; modern country music gives me a
headache. That aside, however, I wonder if the listeners of each type
of music know how much they have in common.

3. Yesterday, on September 11th, I put a "humorous essay" into one of
my sets. I was feeling somewhat bitter about work and hadn't gone home
to start watching the plethora of 911 coverage. The essay - a faux AP
newspaper blurb - got a couple of hits, but no rating. I'm hoping no
one actually read it. For once in my life, I censored myself before the
fall. But even as I write this, I wonder if I've done the right thing
by deleting the entry. Was it that offensive? Or did I get sucked into
the maudlin pictures on the TV?

4. People who try to make their mark by, say, dressing differently or
becoming Buddhist or doing Yoga often make me sad. So many people go
against the tide these days that they, themselves, are in danger of
becoming fashionable. I think this thought is best summed up by a
bumper sticker I once saw: "If you're a 400 year old vampire, why are
you still in high school?" Of course, if one's whole point is to be
fashionable, I say get to it.

5. Another bumper sticker I saw, on a car owned by a somewhat buff
woman with a bi-level haircut: "Vagitarian." Now, that's funny.

6. Quite possibly due to my distaste for modern country music, I
believe I'm the only Texan this side of the Mississippi who cannot do
the two-step. This may be because I've only tried it while exceedingly
drunk, but still. There's something maddening in that
shuffle-shuffle-slide-shuffle-slide-slide-whatever rhythm. I start off
just fine but then my brain and my legs rebel; sometimes even my butt
starts doing its own thing if it's a particularly catchy tune (a rare
occurrence, considering the tunes that are out there).

7. I feel sorry for George Bush. What a nasty time to be president.
Will he ever be able to do anything right? American public opinion is
with him for now, naturally, but God knows he's just one step away from
his father, who might possibly become known as the worst president in
the history of the United States (Ronald Reagan doesn't count, since
hindsight is twenty/twenty and it's clear to even the staunchest
Republican that old Ronnie was neck-deep in Alzheimer's from the
get-go).

8. But what of the wives? The wives, the wives!

9. For my 34th birthday, I want a pair of those night binoculars.
They're way too expensive but I know I'd put them to good use, though
there's not really anything like a Central Park here in Denver for me
to catch all the naughty bits.