Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Like Charly, I could use a glass of fragmented grape.

My last two hours' worth of music:

Louis Armstrong – Amazing Grace
John Hiatt & Bonnie Raitt – This Thing Called Love
Emiliana Torrini – Sunny Road
Laura Nyro – Up On The Roof
Meatwad & Carl – Shampoo The Road
Blue Rodeo – Till I Am Myself
Bruce Cockburn – The Coldest Night of the Year
Dan Bern – Albuquerque Lullaby
Dobacaracol – Love
Lord of the Dance – Violin Duet
Mercedes Sosa & Nana Mouskouri – Credo
Melissa Etheridge & kd Lang – Sleep While I Drive
Moxy Fruvous – Teenager
Reel Big Fish – It’s The End of the World As We Know It
Sam Roberts – Brother Down
Rufus Wainwright – Sonnet 29
Theme Song – Meow Mix
Tom Cochrane – I Wish You Well
Trance – Tribal Techno
Suzanne Vega – Tom’s Diner
Brak – Discombobulated Cheese Balls
Sarah McLachlan – Do What You Have To
Trans-Siberian Orchestra – Surprise Symphony
Roseanne Cash & John Hiatt – One Step Over The Line
Rockapella – Walking In Memphis

. . . and of course I'm still humming the Meow Mix theme song, interspersed with the discombobulated cheese balls. Somehow I always hone in on the classy ones.

Still no word from the family in Gulfport. They all lived within spittin' distance of the sea so I doubt there's anything left of their homes. That's not important right now. What I want to know is if there's anything left of THEM.

Several of the gas stations in this town are closed. They are out of gas. As in, there is no gas left in the tanks because people bought it all. Holy cow. Shades of the seventies. . . .

I'm glad my computer threw a few random silly songs at me tonight. Sometimes, you just need a little random silliness. Tonight is one of those nights.

In a few minutes I need to go pay the bills. I never liked doing that and now I dread it above most other things, because it fills me with fear. We don't have enough money, and it gets worse and worse. We just don't have enough money. Some nights I am really frightened.

Okay, that wasn't quite accurate. EVERY night I am really frightened.

How shameful of me to worry about money, when others are fighting for their lives, wading through high water, huddled in shelters hoping they will still HAVE a home, etc. . . .

If I had three wishes, I hope I would have the courage and heart to use them all for other people with far worse problems than mine. But I am just awful enough to hope that I get FOUR wishes, and that there would be one left for me.

Oh poop. I would use the first wish to wish for a million wishes, and then I could be selfless and selfish too.

I am so hungry. I wish I had some discombobulated cheese balls right now. I shall substitute some potato chips and a pile of essays to be scored, and hope it will suffice.

Nothing like getting your essay back and realizing it has chocolate smears and potato chip grease on it.

Yeah, I'm so the sophisticated culture prof.

Definitely.

Fragment: incomplete sentence

Fragment: man without a penis, ie 'incomplete'

Did YOUR teacher fill you in on that interesting little piece of word history? No? That's because your teacher wasn't sophisticated and cultured like me.

And now, you see, my whole class will giggle all through tomorrow's lesson, and they will remember it, too. Because that which we learn while laughing, we usually remember.

To paraphrase Tybalt: Bring it on, fragment!

Bonus points if you know where the title came from.