s to report today.
The world belongs to the birds now, the sky when last observed growing from the navy darkness not to a rosy dawn nor lighter tint of blue but rather to a rich turquoise.
En route to the housewarming, we agreed to complement our offerings of music (his CDs and my accordion) with food and drink. The tub of Neapolitan ice cream fit in his back pack; the bottle of ginger ale would not, so it rested in a bag hung from a handlebar. Swaying gently, bubbles stirred and forebode something greater, deeper and more sinister. While coasting a half-block down the way the cap of the agitated bottle clips a passing spoke and the bottle explodes in a pinwheel of foam, emphatic enough in its eruption to tear a new opening in its sturdy plastic shopping bag, soaking my leg in spicy stickiness. We pull over and take stock of the rapidly-changing situation. Five minutes from the party, we split the remaining quarter-bottle and agree - we no longer have a drink to bring, but something more valuable to share; a story.
How to win at Trivial Pursuit:
- 1. The answer is JFK.
- 2. If the answer is an American who is not JFK, it is another Kennedy.
- 3. If it asks after a British politician, the answer is Winston Churchill.
- 4. If the question is about baseball, the answer is Babe Ruth.
- 5. If the baseball answer is not Babe Ruth, it is Pete Rose.
- 6. Chicago.
In short, there are three types of question
s: the kind you know or could reasonably be expected to know (only asked to other players), the kind you couldn't know but should be able to guess (using the guidelines laid out above), and the kind which neither you nor anyone else could nor should know (let it go - it wasn't meant to be
Mass and momentum are powerful and underestimated forces - I was merely crouched, coasting, but I was accelerating away from him though he was pedalling mightily after me. Sensitivity to speed increases inordinately in relation to proximity to the ground. If riding over painted crosswalk stripes causes a jolt of pelvic pain, you are going too fast. If you cannot hear the polite honk of the car behind you through the rush of wind roaring in your ears, you are going too fast.
I had no conception of what Cambodian cuisine consisted of, though the curiosity of my mental images of pyramids of intellectual's skulls (slathered in barbecue sauce) continued to drive me to someday investigate further. With monster portions of noodles and broth (I pity da 'pho!) at a reasonable price the aquariums and jackfruit milkshake (none finer available anywhere!) pushed this spot over the top as the King of local 4 am refuelling stations - a title perhaps of dubious distinction and station.
My beard is now long enough that the back of it requires being bent back on itself before being wrapped up in its front segment. Alternately, mayhaps I should just stick it wholesale down the front of my shirt to avoid absorbing more broth than my mouth.
Considering visiting my life on upcoming vacation during the holidays. Wish you were here.
It's not that it was a good day so much as that it was a great night.
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