I suppose it’s better to update my blog than to watch another youtube clip of the National.
The Brooklyn Half Marathon went well; the book writing has been less successful. I’m trying to change the point of view, which has been really hard. It feels like I’m trying to move a bookshelf eight inches, but I have to take out all the books first and then restock them. In taking this metaphor too far news: I’m not even sure where I want the bookshelf to be. And my books are alphabetized.
Here are two things that would be lovely details in some other book:
When I was a teenager, a friend of mine scored tickets to a George Carlin stand-up show. To make this story easier to follow, I’ll combine this friend with another one who I had a crush on. Anyway, George Carlin made a joke about how when you trim your toenails, there’s this urgent need to bend the clipped nail between your fingers because by the next day, the nail clippings won’t be flexible any more. Also, interacting with a dislodged body part is weird and exciting. This friend, the one who is the combined ticket getter and crush, laughed knowingly at that joke. At that time, I had never bent my toenails after they had been clipped from my toes, and I thought his laughing at this joke was some huge insight into him. Not even that, but a real moment of intimacy. That’s as close as my friend and I ever got.
Secondly, in the ABC documentary about the Beatles, Ringo Starr said something about how his father was a baker, which was lucky because during the war, he always had butter and sugar. And if I ever wanted to make an optimistic character, there’s no better line than that, because Ringo Starr wasn’t wealthy as a kid, but felt rich because of his access to butter.
So those are two things I think about every time I trim my toenails and see butter being thrown away. Now you can too!