in which I unabashedly foreground betegrise’s comment on february 27
Wednesday 27 February 2008 | I like a cookie
THE REASON THERE IS FEBRUARY
“It seems to me that if you or I must choose between two courses of thought or action, we should remember our dying and try so to live that our death brings no pleasure on the world.” —John Steinbeck (b. 27 February 1902)
I invite you to commemorate John Steinbeck’s birthday as celebrated since 1968 by joining in the ritual activities: (1) if you don’t have time to read Of Mice And Men or a short story, then check as many Steinbeck books out of the library as you can and return them the same day; (2) eat inexpensive Mexican food and—unless, like me, you’re sober—drink a cold beer; (3) have a conversation with a friendly dog; (4) go wading barefoot in the nearest body of water; (5) find a way to disrespect Authority.
Bravo! (Except no beer for me, given my already exotic psychiatric cocktail.)
Right now the Brujo records his radio show in the living room; Sass warps her way through “It Might as Well Be Spring” (”with a very young Miles Davis on trumpet”), followed immediately by Sketches of Spain-era Miles and then crashing craziness from John Zorn; and now, inexplicably and defiantly, Lou Reed; all perfect to read and doze by. I disrespected Authority already by having two helpings of arroz con crema for breakfast, so I suppose I can be further disrespectful by refusing to bike wearily to school this afternoon just to observe another fed-up colleague in her classroom, followed by said observation’s tedious write-up, due tomorrow in the TA seminar that just wouldn’t die. “Instructor failed to take attendance, then asked students if they had prepared worksheet for class. When students had not, instructor told them to do it and then left for 20 minutes to smoke a cigarette.” [True story! Though not of that particular teaching associate.]
So I think I will curl up in bed now with Sweet Thursday (one of the departed Librarian’s thoughtful gifts) and celebrate in my own anemic way.
Mack said reprovingly to Hughie: “Just because he doesn’t run no dame naked through the streets in the daytime, you think Doc’s celebrate.”
“What’s celebrate?” Eddie asked.
“That’s when you can’t get no dame,” said Mack.
“I thought it was a kind of party,” said Jones.
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