Ai-yi-yi . . . that’s what I’d say if I were Ricky Ricardo, which I’m not. Whatta weird week . . . (there’s some alliteration for you, boys and girls). Where to begin . . .
LIFE, THE UNIVERSE AND EVERYTHING (in no particular order):
Featuring natural disasters (the earthquake in Chile) . . . impoverished politicians (little Sara Palin with her “poor man’s teleprompter”) . . . suicide (son of Walter Koenig — aka “Chekhov” from original Stark Trek series) . . . collapsing flowers (valiant bulbs trying to stand tall in our flower box after persistent rain) . . . he(art) (my latest painting that now features a heart, complete with arteries and an aorta with a prominent but unruptured aortic abdominal aneurysm) . . . tsunamis (and my lifelong fascination with them) . . . grief closer to home (the death of my spiritual mentor’s best friend) . . . spontaneous mandala-making (been on a tear, of late) . . . health care-shmealth care (can you say “The United States of Big Pharma”?) . . . horrifying omens (Newt Gingrich wants to run in 2012 . . . Mitt Romney’s still out there) . . . such a thing as a Heidi Montag even exists . . .
Start again. New list.
LIFE, THE UNIVERSE AND EVERYTHING (sunshine version):
British actors (Bill Nighy! Alan Rickman! Simon Pegg!) . . . Trader Joe’s whole wheat sourdough . . . living room Olympics with Squitos, the Magic Qat and her play-daddy (my husband) . . . “Wait Wait, Don’t Tell Me” on NPR every Saturday . . . Mindful Therapy by Thomas Bien . . . Steven Colbert . . . Jon Stewart . . . blueberry juice and sparkling water . . . American actors (Jeff Bridges! George Clooney! Kevin Spacey!) . . . spring moving exponentially closer to being sprung . . . the bright-white-ice-sharp full moon hanging outside near our house . . . the Sun magazine . . . the ever-expanding English language (what the hell IS a “sham-wow” anyhow?) . . . American actresses (Maggie Gyllenhaal! Michelle Williams! Lauren Bacall!) . . . Haagen Dasz strawberry ice cream (even though I can’t eat it anymore) . . . Bill Moyers . . . the late, great Joseph Campbell . . . British actresses (Dame Judy Dench! Helen Mirren! Emma Thompson!) . . . online Sudoku . . . other international actors/actresses who tilt my machine (Hugo Weaving! Juliet Binoche! Cate Blanchett! ) . . . the smell of Play-Doh (ahhh, pure rapture) . . .
And for some reason (and appropos of nothing), stuck in my head is a rhyme composed by my ex-father-in-law in response to the cover of Frank Zappa’s album, Weasels Ripped My Flesh:
Spring has sprung,
the grass has rzzzzz,
the trees are where
the birdies is.
(You’d have to see the album to fully appreciate this little ditty.)
But I am weary and it’s getting late-ish, and half the weekend is over . . . and I just looked up “ShamWow” and learned that it is a super-absorbent cloth that can be used for cleaning . . . gotta admit, I’m a little disappointed that something with such a great name is so humdrum a thing . . .
Gotta take off. Set a course, Mr. Sulu . . .