Archives for March 2006

Off to darkest Orange County, there to chat with the folks at Loyola Press – I think they’re in town for the RTBE – about that little book of mine they published. And from there to Ojai, land of the Pink Moment, where some nights you can get your bliss on by just standing outside and inhaling, so powerful is the scent of orange blossoms. Back Sunday. As my dear friend who somehow ended up a Manhattan lawyer living in Park Slope used to say when he signed off – be good.

It occurred to me in the shower this morning, as I bellowed my way through my morning songlist, that They Might Be Giants is among the few pop bands (as opposed to country) I know that makes consistent, quality references to drinking. Off the top of my head:

Self-titled debut album:

Well, I ain’t feeling happy
About the state of things in my life
But I’m working to make it better
With a six of Miller High Life

– from “Alienation’s for the Rich”

Lincoln:

Lie still, little bottle
And shake my shaky hand
Black coffee’s not enough for me
I need a better friend

– from “Lie Still, Little Bottle”

Flood:

Confidentially
She never called me baby-doll
Confidentially
I never had much pride
But now I rock a barstool
And I drink for two
Just pondering this time bomb in my mind

– from “Lucky Ball and Chain”

Apollo 18:

Now let’s toast the sad, cold fact
Our love’s never coming back
And we’ll race to the bottom of a glass
So narrow your eyes

– from “Narrow Your Eyes”

John Henry:

Meet James Ensor
Belgium’s famous painter
Raise a glass and sit and stare
Understand the man

– from “Meet James Ensor” (Admittedly, the weakest reference in the bunch.)

Factory Showroom:

Full bottle in front of me
Time to roll up my sleeves
And get to work
And after many glasses of work
I get paid
In the brain

– from “Your Own Worst Enemy”

And there, alas, my love affair ends. Haven’t bought any since. But what a run! I knew there was a reason I liked these guys!

…is there any finer sign of encroaching middle age?

Got a lump carved out of my neck this morning. The wife encouraged it. I fought her on it, but when the thing grew a mouth and started talking – and I don’t know where it learned that sort of language, I swear – she suggested that I take action.

In the end, I agreed because I feared it would turn out to be more a more interesting conversationalist than myself. Trumped by the lump – the stinging shame of it!

Yesterday’s News Today, per usual…

Burger King has, to their great credit, revived the Burger King himself in their ad campaigns. Now, every king has a court jester – a fool, a … clown. Let’s see…are there any burger-related clowns out there who could be cast in the role…hm…

It would make such a great commercial. Ronald, the King’s Fool.

“Your Highness, instead of flame-broiling, why not FRY your burgers?”

“Ha ha ha, Ronald! The things you say! Truly, you are the greatest fool any king ever had.”

I just finished an interview on Relevant Radio. During the interview, a fellow called and said that he and his wife were, it seemed to him, some of the only Catholics he knew who practiced NFP. He wanted to know how to put it out there, how to present it, how to explain it. My answer wasn’t too stellar. Mostly, it was this: admit it’s a hard teaching. Admit it’s diffficult to understand. Suggest that understanding is not essential to obedience – “trust the Church implicitly,” as Cardinal Newman advises, especially if you believe that She is on the side of love. Suggest also that God will surely not be unhappy with the sacrifice you have made in obeying His Church – even if you didn’t understand exactly why you had to do so.

But I’d love to hear how y’all would have answered.

“Memento mori? You must be joking. I can hardly forget it.”

…says the man. ” Just sit down and your desk and open a vein.”

He’s right. That’s the easy part. Getting someone to read the stuff, now that’s the trick.

That goes for blogging, too. What does it mean when I find that, during the month that I quit linking to outside stories, I get what is far and away the lowest number of visits to the blog since its inception? That’ll teach me to write poetry…

(It’s not linking if it’s done in perfect charity, or something like that…)

Visitors to my comments boxes may have noticed a new voice: the estimable Father Stephanos, O.S.B.. I have had the pleasure of meeting Father, and now you can, too: he’s taken up blogging at One Monk of the Order of Saint Benedict.

Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. I say in silly poetry.

Come, nail
Impale
My foot
Put
Your point
At joint
Of ball and toe
My woe
Swells
The yells
Alarm
The harm
Withal
Is small
Unless
Tetanus

When I’m drunk on good gin
I still feel bad about sin
But when I’m drunk on good bourbon
Sin is much less disturbin’.

Whose feast is today…

To be a better father. To draw the comic, make the mix tape, engage in the wrestle. To teach baseball, for pity’s sake. And before that, to buty the Neat’s Foot Oil to treat the baseball glove.

I want to be the shepherd of my flock.