Something that tends to get lost in the churn of his body of work is how spot-on some of his observations and not all of them are in his works, really are such as my favorite: "True terror is waking up to find your high school class is running the country."
I'd argue that point but the awards assembly starts at ten in the cafeteria and bring your varsity jacket. Here's a part of a long ago good breakfast opus that I called:
Kurt Would Probably Use Rice Milk
I am not a big fan of experimentation (I used to be a huge fan of things created through fermentation but that was another lifetime, one of toil and blood, and I make it a rule to not go there now) and plod along for the most part with one foot in front of the other in travel and travail from Point A to something like Point B. It fills up the day and makes the time go fast.
On weekday mornings I'd have a bowl of Cheerios for breakfast after I've gotten to work. I spent more time there than I did at home because I lived for the approval in strangers' eyes, I guess (keep your pity or contempt to yourself; I have my own).
On weekday mornings I'd have a bowl of Cheerios for breakfast after I've gotten to work. I spent more time there than I did at home because I lived for the approval in strangers' eyes, I guess (keep your pity or contempt to yourself; I have my own).
Perhaps true for you as well, I had a routine from the time I opened my eyes to about a half hour after I was actually at work. All the stuff in between happened, of course, because I was the one making it happen, but it was an auto-pilot operation. I was and still am such a slave to the routine that if anything changes or shifts, I'm like one of those wind-up toys that walks itself into a corner, I just keep bumping into whatever the roadblock has become, unable to clear it or go around.
Cheerios at work was my decompression food, I suspect. When I sleep, I cannot recall if I dream though my wife has told me there are nights (and early mornings) where I shout out and/or talk or get up, and for which I have no explanation because I have no recollection. My dream world is just black. I use the whole going to work and getting used to being there for the next twelve hours part of the day as the Re-entry to Earth part of the program. And the fuel for this is Cheerios.
I knew someone who called them bagel seeds-suspect the Big G folks wouldn't have been too happy about that but it makes me smile and I repeat it to myself every morning and crack myself up. I never tire of saying it or laughing at it. If I had but a million or so folks with my delightful sense of humor (someone had to say it, and it didn't look like you were about to) I could have my own cable news show-and oh, how we'd all laugh then. I have Cheerios in the next to last of the red plastic bowls we had when we lived in Germany and used for cereal there.
Some time ago, Sigrid finally (endlich!) found very nice and (actually) quite pretty replacement bowls and the red plastic ones went to the land of their ancestors on trash day. As the oldest thing still in our house, I get VERY nervous when anything is pitched out 'because it's really old.' You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows on that equation.
I eat Cheerios without sugar or milk. Actually, and I don't eat a lot of cereals, I NEVER eat dry cereal with anything other than a spoon and my mouth. Why do you think they call it DRY cereal?
What am I supposed to do with the milk? Drop little tiny people in the bowl so they can be rescued? Perhaps I should get a recording of Nearer My God to Thee, and with sugar cubes to construct a fake iceberg, reenact the sinking of the Titanic. Of course, with that much sugar in my system, I'd be crayoning all the walls from the outside in, until sedated with a croquet mallet.
I used to eat Wheaties, back when Bob Richards (if I were shorter, I could ask him for a pony ride for my birthday) was on the cover (I don't how old I was before discovering he didn't invent them but was the first endorser of a cereal. I never count the Quaker guy on the oats).
Cheerios at work was my decompression food, I suspect. When I sleep, I cannot recall if I dream though my wife has told me there are nights (and early mornings) where I shout out and/or talk or get up, and for which I have no explanation because I have no recollection. My dream world is just black. I use the whole going to work and getting used to being there for the next twelve hours part of the day as the Re-entry to Earth part of the program. And the fuel for this is Cheerios.
I knew someone who called them bagel seeds-suspect the Big G folks wouldn't have been too happy about that but it makes me smile and I repeat it to myself every morning and crack myself up. I never tire of saying it or laughing at it. If I had but a million or so folks with my delightful sense of humor (someone had to say it, and it didn't look like you were about to) I could have my own cable news show-and oh, how we'd all laugh then. I have Cheerios in the next to last of the red plastic bowls we had when we lived in Germany and used for cereal there.
Some time ago, Sigrid finally (endlich!) found very nice and (actually) quite pretty replacement bowls and the red plastic ones went to the land of their ancestors on trash day. As the oldest thing still in our house, I get VERY nervous when anything is pitched out 'because it's really old.' You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows on that equation.
I eat Cheerios without sugar or milk. Actually, and I don't eat a lot of cereals, I NEVER eat dry cereal with anything other than a spoon and my mouth. Why do you think they call it DRY cereal?
What am I supposed to do with the milk? Drop little tiny people in the bowl so they can be rescued? Perhaps I should get a recording of Nearer My God to Thee, and with sugar cubes to construct a fake iceberg, reenact the sinking of the Titanic. Of course, with that much sugar in my system, I'd be crayoning all the walls from the outside in, until sedated with a croquet mallet.
I used to eat Wheaties, back when Bob Richards (if I were shorter, I could ask him for a pony ride for my birthday) was on the cover (I don't how old I was before discovering he didn't invent them but was the first endorser of a cereal. I never count the Quaker guy on the oats).
I guess if you had a cereal box with Michael Phelps, using milk would make sense, but in these days and times, I guess you'd use the ultra-high temperature stuff that looks like white water. I've never understood how they get the cows to stand still while they heat 'em up. I suspect they catch them early in the morning before they've had their Cheerios...
-bill kenny
-bill kenny
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