| Dave's 40.597th Birthday Party is TOMORROW |
[Apr. 28th, 2009|09:54 am] |
This is a repost of my original announcement on Facebook, placed now in the open where non-Facebook friends can see it. (Sorry, Charles! Sorry, Charlie! Sorry, other friends whose names aren't as amusingly similar!). But I'm adding a few things here since I have a bit more room:
* Yes, I really will be handing out cards to people who show up. It's fun for me. And I've found a way to do it pretty efficiently. You'll see.
* It "starts" at 5 because this "party" is really nothing more than me hanging out in a funky-cool bar while my friends come up and say hi...but there's a REALLY GREAT room that I want, and which gets filled up quickly, so I want to stake it out before other legitimate bargoers claim it for themselves and things get violent.
*To that end, I could use two or three volunteers to show up early and fill seats. I'll buy you drinks. Email me directly at wordboydave@gmail.com if you can help and are free. I realize most of you have jobs, and I have lots of respect for that. *I also recognize that this may be crazy talk, and maybe we should just all show up later and crash the cool room more assertively once there's an actual mass of us. If no one's there by 6, I'll just chalk it up to learning not to plan this stuff by myself. In any event, I imagine the bulk of this thing occurring between 7 and 11 or so.
*Any and all guests are welcome--but you don't get a card unless I know you. Since I'm bad with faces (no offense; it's the ADD), I may require occasional prodding.
The original Facebook post follows the string of asterisks below.
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Location: The Cowgirl Hall of Fame, 519 Hudson Street, NY NY
MAP AVAILABLE HERE: http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=73793106794&ref=mf
Never got to celebrate my big 40th birthday because I was busy writing a book, moving into my apartment, etc. But it's been a VERY big year, and it deserves celebration! So join me at the Cowgirl Hall of Fame next Wednesday for drinks and conversation! I'm dedicating the evening to thanking all the friends who have made my life in New York so wonderful, so if you come, I'm giving YOU a personally written card (as long as supplies last). WARNING! DON'T BRING CAKE! If you bring treats, Cowgirl Hall of Fame charges all of us $3 a head. This is just a nice evening drinking at one of the coolest places I know. I'll be hanging out in the cool part of the lounge--the area with the fake skylight. |
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| This is Just to Say... |
[Oct. 5th, 2007|04:23 am] |
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I joined FaceBook yesterday, as many of you here have, and have been sending around friend requests. Each time you do this, FaceBook gives you two random words to type in to make sure you're not a spambot. When I made the requests, rpipzzleguy's word pair was "if pointless." And wesleyjenn's was "nude again." Riff freely. |
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| Possibly My Last Repost: Bible Fun With Uta |
[Apr. 17th, 2007|06:37 am] |
My friend Toonhead has set up a feed from my real blog, linked here through the name quiz_npl. I have no idea how to get the link to appear here (maybe it already has!), but I thought I'd mention it. Add the feed! Make my life easier! In the meantime, here's my latest post on bourboncowboy.blogspot.com, which I'm re-posting here for people who didn't know about the feed. This may be my last direct post:
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I'm dangerous around abebooks.com. It's like I'm in the world's largest library and I can suddenly grab whatever I want for the cheapest possible price. In some cases this doesn't help much (even the cheapest copy of The Jesus of the Early Christians by G. A. Wells is more than $100), but if a book is reasonably popular, you have a shot at actually getting it. And I have just re-added to my own whittled-down library two books I loved reading in library form: 1.) Raymond Tallis's skeptical take on modern literary theory, called Not Saussure; and 2.) Putting Away Childish Things, by the magnificently-named scholar Uta Ranke-Heinemann.
Uta is skeptical about almost everything in the Bible, which is an odd trait for a Catholic professor of theology and religion. (After her first book came out--a withering critique of the church's history of oppressing women and hating sex, called Eunuchs for the Kingdom of God--like fellow theologian Hans Kung, she was forbidden to teach theology again and now teaches church history instead. (P.S. Hans Kung's sin was releasing a book called Infallible?)) And as an aficionado of skeptical books in general, I have to say I don't really recommend it. A good skeptical book sort of tries to meet you halfway and makes its case carefully and sympathetically. Uta Ranke-Heinemann (love that name! Can't stop saying it!) just launches into her attacks from page 1, calling all the miracle stories "fairy tales" and adding little bits of side snark like this quote from Chapter Two, "Matthew's Fairy Tale of Jesus' Childhood":
"The framework of Luke's account has no time for the whole story of the star and the Magi. Since Herod has all the male children killed "who were two years old or under..."[at the time of the visit of the three wise men,] Jesus would have been going on two. Strangely enough, as we know from depictions of the adoration of the Magi, Jesus was still lying in the manger---no doubt he wasn't a very active child. In this phlegmatic feature of his character Jesus obviously took after his father, who after all this time was still sitting tightwith his young family in the stable." (p. 23)
Funny, but it's a straw-man argument. I've never read an evangelical commentator who didn't pooh-pooh the Adoration of the Magi representations as unbiblical precisely because of the two-year gap. So it's a nice slam on popular piety, but doesn't do anything else except offend and piss off evangelicals. What good is that?
However, I have learned a few interesting things from this book that I haven't learned from others, and I hereby share them because a.) they're fun, and b.) you shouldn't have to read deeply into this book to get to them:
Fun Fact #1: Judas could not have been paid thirty pieces of silver.
Explanation: Matthew says this was done to fulfill a prophecy in Jeremiah (Mt. 27: 9-10). But the Jeremiah passage mentions the purchasing of a field (not a potter's field), but for seventeen pieces of silver, not thirty (Jer. 32: 6-9). The thirty pieces comes from Zechariah 11: 12-13, where it's thirty shekels of silver. The money quote (as it were): "In Jesus' day there were gold and silver denarii, the double as (a Roman coin) three-as pieces, minai, lepta, selas, drachmas, and double-drachmas---but no coin or currency known as "pieces of silver" These had gone out of circulation around 300 years before." [i.e., in Zechariah's time. The Zecharaiah quote also mentions "weighing out" the coins, which is also anachronistic, since by this time they'd invented minting.] (p. 126)
Fun Fact #2: The dialogue with Jesus at Paul's conversion ("Why do you persecute me?") is clearly faked.
Explanation: In the book of Acts, it is said that the pre-conversion Paul, traveling on the road to Damascus to hunt down Christians, is suddenly struck down by a light and he hears a voice saying "Paul, why do you persecute me?" And Jesus (that's who's talking) adds, "It is hard to kick against the goads" (or "pricks", depending on your translation).
Not only does this not square with Paul's own, much less theatrical descriptions of his conversion (I Cor. 15: 8, Gal. 1: 15-16), but the whole thing is ripped off from The Bacchae by Euripides. In that work, Pentheus, king of Thebes, is persecuting the god Dionysus when Dionysus calls out to him "You disregard my words of warning...and kick against the goads, a man defying god." As Uta points out, "Jesus even uses the same plural form of the noun (kentra) that Euripides needs for the meter of his line" (p. 163). Bonus fun fact: the story later in Acts, when Paul is in prison and an earthquake breaks all the chains and opens all the doors, is ALSO, in part, ripped off from The Bacchae: In one scene, the maenads (followers of Dionysus---who, I should add, is a dying-and-rising vegetation god) are in prison when "The chains on their legs snapped apart/by themselves. Untouched by any human hand, /the doors swung wide, opening of their own accord." (Uta's account of this is on p. 169 of her book.)
I'm about fifty pages from the end and those are my two big takeaways. But they're pretty big for me, since I've read dozens of these books and a lot of the same points keep getting mentioned. These are new! Figured I'd share. |
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| Strap Sighting |
[Apr. 12th, 2007|08:34 am] |
Some time last year when I was taking the 6 bus home from Midtown, a tall businessman next to me on the crowded subway drew his arm up, and, with a small "clink," hooked himself onto the subway rail with a sort of portable hook made of flat plastic weave.
A friend of his pointed and said, "What's that?"
"You know what?" said the man. "It's just a thing that hooks on to your wrist and it's supposed to protect from germs. I saw an article about it in the New York Times years ago, and they were talking about how it was going to be the next big thing. So I bought it. And I have literally never seen anyone else using one since." He shrugged. "But I like it." It was an odd, amusing story, and for the next year I kept an eye out. Nothing.
I mention this because two days ago, I accidentally missed my bus stop and wound up way down near 28th and 3rd Avenue, and was obliged to walk north back to the work I'd missed. And while I threading between 3rd and Lex, I passed a general store...and it had the strap for sale in the window! Not only that, but next to the strap was a cutout of the very same article that must have inspired this first guy to buy his. (New York Times, 2003.) Must be a very persuasive article.
Anyway, the company's called TranStrap. Since I'm neither short nor particularly germ-phobic, I'll be saving my $17 or so. But they're not only still in business, but seem to be very funny people. Check it out: www.transtrap.com |
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| (no subject) |
[Apr. 12th, 2007|08:34 am] |
[Reprinted from bourboncowboy.blogspot.com. I don't know how to do links on this site---Ive done it before, but damned if I can remember---so if you want to see the pictures, just go to Wikipedia yourself. Then scroll down to the Karen Han link.]
When I moved to New York City and started taking the A train, every so often in the middle of the day on weekends I'd see an old Chinese man playing a strange-looking two-stringed instrument. "How cool!" I thought. "An instrument I've never heard of before!" Here's a link to a video that'll give you a sense of the performance. Just pretend you're on a subway platform, people are conversing nearby, and everything smells vaguely of pee.
Yesterday, while leafing through the introduction to a collection of short stories called San Francisco Noir, I read a sentence that started, "The other day at a bus station I saw a man playing a Chinese fiddle, or erhu."
My eyes gloinked. So that's what they're called! And a quick search on Wikipedia confirmed it. Meet the erhu. Apparently, I'd been staring directly at a crossword puzzle word and had had no idea. And what a word! At four letters, it's actually a bit more useful than the three-letter weird words we're stuck with, and with that letter choice, it's all but begging: "Dave! Please put me running across on the second row down of some wide-open crossword grid of Friday-level difficulty!"
And then a strange thing happened: the word didn't exist. It's there on Wikipedia, it's there in San Francisco Noir. Presumably people in big cities like Chicago have occasion to see them every week or so! But it is not in any dictionary I have access to. Not in Merriam-Webster's Eleventh Collegiate. Or the New International Unabridged, second or third edition. Not in Random House, not in Chambers. I checked the Webster's New World anyway, but I knew I was licked. Nothing. Apparently, those snotty lexicographers in their high, paper-filled, and incredibly flammable towers, feel that "erhu" does not meet an English linguistic need.
So I'm hereby announcing a new mission: to popularize the word "erhu." I'm going to use it in straight definition ("This weekend the erhu player was back at 59th Street"), in made-up idioms ("Oh, sure, it's complicated, but it's not like juggling erhus,") and metaphors and descriptions ("the sound was eerie, like an erhu being played by a baby vampire"). And when I use it, those of you who have read this post can knowledgeably smile and say, "Ah. The erhu. Thank you, Dave, for your continued selfless work on behalf of the crossword puzzle community." And if anyone wants to put me on a stamp later...well, shucks. You just do what you think best |
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| Aargh! (Jeopardy Spoilers requested, in a way) |
[Mar. 20th, 2007|01:12 pm] |
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I haven't seen ANY of Scott's OR Cramerica's runs on Jeopardy! I AM, however, going to be popping in to say howdy at Stamford this weekend. Will anyone be there who can hand over a burned CD of either set? Jeffurry did it, and it was cool! Be cool like Jeffurry! |
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| Current Events Poem: Time Travel Declared Impossible |
[Mar. 13th, 2007|08:41 am] |
Time Travel Is Not Possible, Scientists Say
They're saying that time travel cannot be done
Which ruins a lot of our novelists' fun.
But really, it's not all that bad.
It's a total relief
To dispel the belief
That I might take a trip
On a time-travel ship
To, say, seventeen-eighty
---And meet a young lady
Who thinks I'm okay
(In an alien way)
And, through later events
That make crystalline sense
(But are not, looking back,
All that easy to track)
... I become my own grandfather's dad.
(Link: http://www.livescience.com/scienceoffiction/070307_time_travel.html ) |
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| Upcoming Dave Appearances |
[Mar. 5th, 2007|08:36 am] |
I was out of town over the weekend (Hi, Boston! Thanks for a great time!), I got home late, woke up late, and have scant moments before my workday begins. So while I have a lot to say (especially about the carnivalesque joys of my first Purim!), for now I just have to do a little upkeep. To wit:
I will be performing TONIGHT at Andy Christie's Liar Show, 8:00 at the People's Improv Theater at 154 W. 29th Street (between 6th and 7th Ave.), and I'll be sharing the stage with at least two other terrific storytellers I know: Peter Lubell and the hyperkinetic Adam Wade. For $5 it's a real steal. And, of course, one of us is lying, and you could get a t-shirt for guessing right!
Since that's terribly short notice, however, I should also mention that the Moth Grand Slam---where winners from all the previous slams of the past six months vie for a grand prize that includes actual money(!)---features me this time around, and I really want to win! The details:
MOTH Grand Slam
Tuesday, March 27th, at 7:30 (doors open at 7).
Comix, 353 W. 14th St. (between 8th and 9th Avenue)
I don't know how much it costs because I'm getting in free (!), but you can find details at The Moth.org. |
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| Hey Bostonians! |
[Mar. 3rd, 2007|12:00 pm] |
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I'm in town for the weekend for Sue++'s Game Party (because I got a raise and a cheaper place and now I can afford to take weekend trips like this! Come, celebrate my victory lap!). So I just wanted to say I look forward to seeing as many of you tomorrow as I can...and to warn you that I brought two of my favorite games I never get to play---Citadels (6-7 players is best) and Modern Art (5-6 players optimal)--- and I am bound and determined to play ONE of them! |
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| Subway Poem: The Other Train |
[Mar. 1st, 2007|08:14 am] |
THE OTHER TRAIN
Some nights another train runs parallel
To ours, and we can see the folks inside,
And they see us. And none of us can tell
Who's moving---we just hover, stolid-eyed,
Serene and rushed. We hold a beat or three,
And then they're gone. But I recally it sweetly.
Mid-subway ride, it's really fun to be
Surprised by chance, and swept from time completely.
(P.S.--News flash: I have Internet at home again! And no cable TV! Can carpal tunnel syndrome be far behind?) |
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| Subway Poem: Another Subway Epitaph |
[Feb. 21st, 2007|08:26 am] |
ANOTHER SUBWAY EPITAPH
Here lie the bones of Alexander Koppel:
At 96th, at rush hour, Jesus beckoned.
His body, though, stood straight and couldn't topple
Till everyone got off at 42nd. |
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| Current Events Poem: Britney Shaves Her Head |
[Feb. 21st, 2007|08:20 am] |
Britney Spears Shaves Her Head
Oh what is to be done with Britney Spears?
She's made such friendly music all these years!
But now she's bald (she even held the shears!)
The Disney-Pepsi Axis lost its nun!
They liked her prefab hits and prefab tits,
But now the pundits fear she's lost her wits.
Not me! I'm thrilled it happened. Frankly, it's
The only edgy thing she's ever done. |
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| Help Write a Headline! |
[Feb. 16th, 2007|08:35 am] |
New York has just released its official city condoms---designed with a colorful subway theme that I'm actually quite fond of. But here's the problem: yesterday, the daily magazine amNewYork took on the Official New York Condoms as its cover story...and the best headline they could come up with was this:
"Rubber Stamp."
How depressing from professional journalists. Richest goddamn story to come down the pike in who knows how long, and that's the best they can do? I leave it to readers to suggest something better.
I'll go first: "I F*** New York" |
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| Water! And Pressure! And Warmth! |
[Feb. 16th, 2007|08:22 am] |
(from bourboncowboy.blogspot.com)
I imagine I'll have more time to discuss my new place once I actually get my computer hooked up at home, but can I say, I'm already in love with the shower. Crazy in love! I was in an abusive relationship with my old shower---it would turn randomly hot and scald me, and yet I kept coming back---and so it's an absolute miracle to me just to have a shower that works properly. Did I say works? It's bursting with competence! This is an old rent-controlled building, which means the shower was built back in the fabled days of water luxury, when public fountains roamed freely in the wild, and carriage traffic would be held up for days sometimes as they waited for a fjlokk of glaciers to pass. (A fjlokk is a group of glaciers.) No water-saving nozzles in these sturdy pipes, no way! You want water? Turn it on and stand back! You want hot water? Turn on the hot water and look out! Want warm water? Turn on the cold and let the two temperatures battle to a violent synthesis! All at such high speed that I sort of suspect we're hooked into a fire hydrant somehow. But I'm not complaining! I've lived in the place for two solid nights now, and I can already tell that showering here is going to be like getting a massage every day before work.
Now all I need is an adapter. And internet access. And then I'll feel like I'm human and settled again. Oh---and I should mention that the fact that I'm now on the 1 train puts me in direct contact with THREE of my favorite dive bars: The Patriot (at Chambers), Rudy's (at 50th), and Yogi's/The Bear Bar (at 76th). My weekends just got a whole lot simpler.
Next up: unpacking and organization. But I'm already in a very very very good mood. |
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| Dave Appearances Update |
[Feb. 15th, 2007|12:14 pm] |
I'll be interviewed this weekend (along with many of my wonderful puzzle friends) on NPR's "This American Life." The episode is titled "Quiz Shows" and apparently I'm in the second segment. (If you've never heard of the show, shame on you! It launched the careers of David Sedaris, Sarah Vowell, and David Rakoff, among other bestselling essayists, so everyone should be listening! Particularly since you can download the free podcast on iTunes.)
Also, I'll be performing tonight at Sherry Weaver's "Speakeasy: Stories From the Back Room" in Park Slope, Brooklyn. Biscuit BBQ, 230 Fifth Avenue, at 8:30 (doors open at 8).
I guess I'll be unpacking tomorrow night... |
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| Incidental Poem: The Wages of Snow |
[Feb. 15th, 2007|12:01 pm] |
(An oldie I wrote when I lived in Kansas City, but it's still relevant:)
THE WAGES OF SNOW
Oh I wish that I lived on a tropical isthmus,
Where the sun is as hot as a tannery!
For the wages of having a really white Christhmus
Is a hideous, slush-ridden Jannery. |
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| The Positive Exes Meme |
[Feb. 14th, 2007|11:55 am] |
I haven’t had much luck with Valentine’s Day. The first time I had a real Valentine’s Day, with a girlfriend and everything, was when I was 22, and that was amazing. We watched an old movie, she made lasagna, and we actually spent the night together. (We didn’t do anything because I was still a conservative Christian. But it was nice.) But since I broke up with her, I don’t think I’ve ever actually been dating anybody on the actual date of Valentine’s Day. (My last few relationships ran less than a year and started in the spring.)
However, I find I still think a lot, and with gratitude, about all the women I’ve dated, and I’ve hereby concocted a Valentine’s Day meme that I hope to spread. The idea is to identify somewhere between three and ten exes (depending on how busy you’ve been) an d to explain what you learned from them and how they’ve changed your life. I’m doing this by giving each of them an award, listing the things I still do that remind me of them, and noting any policy changes I’ve made as I attempt to refine my partner-seeking technique. Note that the point of this is to be positive! So when in doubt, I’ve assumed the errors were my own.
To preserve anonymity, I’ve listed each of my exes only by a single initial, and it could be either their first or last name. Also, I’m not following strict chronology.---though I hope there’s a narrative arc to the thing anyway. Okay. Let’s go:
#1: H.
Award: Smartest
What she taught me: movie history, TV history…basically, almost everything I ever missed in pop culture by growing up without a television. I think about her every time I see The X-Files, and to this day when I see a dog, I point and cry, “Doggy!” like she always did. It’s fun.
Policy changes: Apparently sexual compatibility is something you need to work out at the beginning of the relationship. All the friendship in the world can’t overcome a mismatch.
#2: T.
Awards: Sexiest; Most Encouraging
What she taught me: I have found flat-chested women mind-blowingly sexy ever since---the first time my actual proclivities have shifted like that. I also learned a lot about pedagogy and Korea. I still occasionally consult with her because she has a voluminous medical reference.
Policy changes: I try to make sure my partner and I have the same emotional and social cycle. My cheerfulness can grate on people sometimes, and I’m a bad match for a stay-at-home introvert.
#3: G.
Awards: Funniest; Best Person to Emulate
What she taught me: The value of friendship; how to live well; the value of pursuing new passions even if they’re a little off the path. (We first sort of met and clicked at a puppetry presentation.)
Policy changes: I try not to date people long distance. If they’re a good match, it’s just too damned frustrating.
#4: M.
Award: Nicest
What she taught me: why some women like James Bond films; the joys of staying in and playing games.
Policy changes: It seems to be a bad idea to date someone who isn’t usually your type, even if you think you need a change. Apparently, we have types for a reason.
#5: J.
Award: Most Sexually Aggressive
What she taught me: She was a birdwatcher, and I’ve never looked at birds the same way since.
Policy changes: I try to make sure we’re on the same page from the get-go. It was my first attempt at a fling, and it was entirely successful precisely because we both knew the time limit.
#6: R.
Awards: Most Like My Physical Ideal; Most Practical; Girliest
What she taught me: The joys of watching parades, taking walks in the park, and solving the crossword together over a Sunday breakfast. I still buy Brummel & Brown margarine and fry my own pita bread for sandwiches.
Policy Changes: Apparently I shouldn’t date really girly women; I tend to irritate such people just by being my usual self. |
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| A Moving Tale of Sorts |
[Feb. 14th, 2007|11:15 am] |
(from bourboncowboy.blogspot.com:)
I'm moved!
A million thanks to Andy Christie for his last-minute assistance. Merely thinking about the time he spent lashing and unlashing two of my bookshelves to the roof of his car fills me with humility. I have just drawn a picture of him in my dictionary so that he'll always be right next to the word "mensch."
The good news is that there's a laundromat open late less than a block from my place. So soon I'll smell fresh again! I'll also probably wind up throwing even more things out: the place seems smaller than I remembered. I'll have a better idea when the boxes are all folded up and the contents appropriately shelved.
The bad news is that, once I moved in, I wanted to celebrate by going to a nearby bar and popping in to declare, "I'm here!" with a sacramental shot of whiskey. But there are NO BARS within a few blocks of where I live. (Which is really surprising, considering how many 24-hour check cashing places there are in the same zip code. Can the two ever be that far apart?)
The good news is that the nearest bar worth noting is one that I've actually heard of: Coogan's, at 168th and Broadway, listed in the book New York City's Best Dive Bars. I believe it's the furthest-north entry in the book. Certainly it's not going to be an impulse stop: I rarely feel a sudden urge to walk eleven blocks uphill.
The other good news is that I'm a mere stone's underhanded toss away from El Caporal, which is either one of the top five best fried chicken stands in New York (if you ask The New York Times) or one of the top ten in the US (if you ask USA Today). It's not only really good (they fry it in mojo spices!), but incredibly cheap: 3 pieces costs $3.25---and it comes with fries, just in case your arteries are still working.
More details later. For now I just wanted to orient you all and let you know that the move worked. |
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| Oh, Right: Gravity! |
[Feb. 11th, 2007|02:29 pm] |
Turns out there was a flaw in my plan. Let's say you're me, and you load up four boxes of books. All together, it probably weighs over 200 pounds, but it's on a wheeled dolly/handtruck, so who cares, right? If you then go to the subway (there's an elevator to take you down!) and then down some stairs to the platform (dragging things down is easy!), you immediately discover the first thing wrong:
1.) It's the weekend, and the subway almost never runs.
So I'm waiting and waiting and waiting...and when I finally get onto the subway, then get to 168th, where I'm supposed to switch to another train...and I realize the second problem:
2.) I have to drag this fucking dolly's dense-ass tonnage UP eighteen stairs, one wincingly tough and painful legs-and-arms-and-back yank at a time.
Then, at the top of the platform, and with arms as helpless as leather straps, I realized my plan involved switching from the A to the 1...that is, going over a little bit, down some more stairs, in order to go down one more stop on a different line...and then UP more goddamn stairs once I got there.
"Fuck it," I said. "I'll just go to the surface and walk eight blocks the rest of the way." This turned out to be a wise plan, because my new place is downhill! But before I could do that...I had to pull that fucking 200-pound monster up FORTY-FIVE more stairs! It was exhausting. I rested four times. New Yorkers are very helpful and I got a few sympathy nudges. But my new plan---starting today---is to just trundle it both ways and to hell with the subway. It'll save backache AND time.
By the way, it turns out that all my books fit into seven small-but-incredibly-heavy boxes. Everything else I possess that isn't going in the car on Tuesday (i.e., the computer, the TV, one of my bookshelves) fits into three largish-but light boxes. So once I truck over the remaining book boxes (starting any second now), I imagine the rest of the job will take only two or three more trips...which means, if I'm correct, two or three more hours. Not bad if you think of it as a two or three hour mildly inconvenient walk.
The good news: after last night, the empty dolly, all by itself, suddenly feels as light as a baton. I hardly even noticed it going back last night.
(from bourboncowboy.blogspot.com) |
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