vituperation

March 28, 2003

Congratulations are in order for reader Kathy, who correctly identified the three men in my last contest as Ron Popeil, Bob Woodward, and William Kristol.

A few nights ago I glanced out the window and saw an odd sight.

"Bessie," I said, "I think there’s a blimp flying around the neighborhood."

So I got the camera and took it out back. It was a blimp, advertising a casino in Mississippi.

Jeez.

Readers in Vancouver, Canada: The March issue of Thirteen Stories, the magazine containing my short story Sweet Dreams, should be in stores in the next few days. If you’re interested in seeing my - ahem - “author bio” (which I got to write myself), it’s on this page. You’ll need to scroll to find it.

March has been a pisser of a month.

While I sometimes think Robyn and I lead a charmed life, March has been a reminder that sometimes things aren’t always champagne and roses. It all started when the receiver to our home theater system blew, necessitating the purchase of a new one. Then my car broke down, stranding me in another county and requiring a tow and a new radiator cap.

Miz Poo, one of our cats, began throwing up - sporadically at first and then every couple of hours. A visit to the emergency room for animals revealed no problems. We had to take her to the regular vet the next day for emergency exploratory surgery, which revealed an impacted caecum that needed cleaning. A few days after the surgery she developed an infection between her skin and the layer of fat on her belly, which caused her incision to rupture and start spewing pus. One more trip to the vet for an emergency drain installation and another round of antibiotics seems to have taken care of that. Twelve hundred dollars later she’s getting back to normal, but God only knows what’s going to happen tomorrow morning when they pull the staples out.

We had a denial-of-service attack on our network at my office, effectively shutting us down for most of a day. Our dishwasher got clogged up and we had to call the Rooter-Man out to take care of it. The power supply on Robyn’s computer croaked, and her computer now seems to slowly be dying. We cancelled our vacation to take care of Miz Poo. Robyn’s Jeep started running rough, and mine started having trouble cranking yesterday. The spud needed new glasses. Pollen season has arrived in full force, which means I’ve started taking Claritin-Ds (the only things that seem to work at all), which turn my sleep to crap.

My brother-in-law almost died from a blocked artery, and had an emergency angioplasty last weekend.

America has resumed fighting in the war against Iraq. Contrary to popular belief I’m not a hawk about this war, but I do stand behind the President, albeit reluctantly. It’s a situation that needs resolution, and sometimes force is the only thing that works. In any case, the war coverage is reminiscent of the original 9-11 coverage: it’s constant. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I was in a funk for almost a month after 9-11; it’s sort of the same way now (oddly, just after I wrote that sentence I got a news alert telling me I’m not alone). It pains me that so many people are dying, particularly the casualties that happen due to friendly fire and errant bombs.

All in all, a fairly crappy month, one desperately in need of some humor.

It was with a sense of trepidation that I stopped at my computer this morning before going out to the garage to lift weights. It’s a special Friday, you see, the Friday before next week’s BIG Friday, and that means a certain website has updated in preparation for what’s coming.

I opened a browser looking for some humor, and found it - boy, did I find it - in a little bullshit.

Check out my wife’s quite humorous take on the clip. Personally, I think we look fine (my flappy neck and long-blinking eyes notwithstanding) and I’m looking forward to seeing the show.

Note to people from other countries: Showtime won’t let you on their site, but there’s a link to a homemade video of the clip on Robyn’s site.