Thursday, August 31, 2006

Weird Stuff

Yes, weird stuff. I have a home-made CD titled "Weird Shit," and it's full of songs that have absolutely no relation to each other (AC/DC's "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap" and Weird Al's "The Biggest Ball of Twine In Minnesota" spring to mind), but this isn't about that. Though it certainly could be. This is just about weird stuff.

Now, sometimes weird stuff is not good. It's stuff that sneaks up behind you and hits you in the back of the head, giving you a bad headache and ruining your day. And sometimes it is good. I had a good variety weird thing happen to me when I came home for lunch today.

I'd hung around for about an hour, doing my normal lunchtime routine of things, and as I was getting ready to go back to work I was washing out a cup and looking out of my wonderful and treasured kitchen window. It was raining outside. "Ah, I knew it would rain before I got back to work, " I said, not thinking much more about it. I then picked up my keys and headed out the door, which leads to the front of my house, whereas the window overlooks the back of my house, and guess what. It wasn't raining.

Now, I know you don't believe me when I say this, but I swear to you this is true. And to prove it to myself, I went back in the house and looked out my kitchen window one more time, and it was indeed raining in my back yard. I left the house again through the front and, though it would rain on me in the car a few minutes down the road, it was not raining as I was standing in the driveway.

I started to walk around to the back of the house before getting in the car, just to see this amazing phenomenon up close. Two things kept me from it: 1) I was late for getting back to work, and 2) I was actually kind of afraid. I thought maybe if I experienced, in the flesh, that cosmic point between where it rains and where it stops I might get sucked up into some strange vortex, some time-space continuum from which I could never escape.

I guess I shouldn't be so surprised that this happened, weird though it was. I can remember many times in my childhood looking out the window with excitement as snow began to pepper down around our house. I'd look out the back window, I'd look out the front window. And it often seemed to be snowing more either in the front or back. I'd just never seen it with rain before. Or never seen it snowing in the back yard and not snowing in the front.

The reason I was late getting back to work after lunch is because I spent 10 minutes trying to open the sealed box my deli ham comes in. I never made it. I finally gave up, picked out something else, and called it a day.

I read on the internet, cnn.com, an interesting news story. Now, here's a guy who had some weird stuff happen to him. A.N. Wilson, who I've never heard of, wrote a biography about the poet John Betjeman, who I've also never heard of, so there's one less book Mr Wilson's going to sell. Anyway, Betjeman was a poet who apparently groused a lot about his lack of a lovelife, and Mr Wilson was ready to publish a never-before seen letter written by Betjeman to a mistress, thus blowing Betjeman's "I never have any fun" claims right out of the water. What he failed to realize was that this letter was a hoax, and one of the more discernible clues as to this is that in one paragraph of the letter, the first letters of each sentence, when taken in order, spell out "A.N. Wilson Is A Shit."

I guess that's the kind of weird stuff that sneaks up behind you and hits you in the back of the head.

I saw the nephew today, and, thank God, he's letting his hair grow out since he cut it to the nubs over summer. It's getting quite long and thick. Upon first seeing him I exclaimed, "You have a combover!" because he seems to have started taking to parting it on the side, but not just on the side, mainly around the ear. Well, not the ear, but close.

I think I hurt his feelings, and he immediately started touching his hair and asking if I didn't like it, and so I assured him it was fine, although he did look a bit like Marv Albert. He didn't know who Marv Albert was. Weird for him, the combover remark (bang! on the head), weird for me, the not knowing Marv Albert (bang! you're old!). This remark, though, was from the 17-year old who said once, at the mention of Paul Newman, "Oh. The salad dressing guy."

And that, my friends, is weird stuff.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* The Hucklebug is now legal. Go here and listen to week 21, where Stennie and I hoist a few and talk about all sorts of things. You can also subscribe through itunes, if they'll let you. No, they'll let you now. Stennie fixed it.
* My house is clean. I spent two hours on it tonight. Well, not on it, it's raining, at least in the back yard, but in it, cleaning and cleaning.

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