Weird

I never read the western-themed comic books as a kid. This is the kind of information you want from me! But let me get to the point. As you know, Tom Franklin brought me a bunch of old comic books while I was in the hospital, and then he brought me even more old comic books after I got home, and the western ones turned out to be among my favorites, because, among other reasons, they had the most owls in them - a longstanding and inexplicaple concern of the "blog," of course. Here's the update you've been craving: I bought even more old comic books for myself! One I especially like is called WEIRD WESTERN TALES. Often, the back pages of WEIRD WESTERN TALES will contain a story about a superhero I never heard of prior to the recent events elucidated above, the mysterious El Diablo. He's great! Anyhow, in one of these WEIRD WESTERN TALES of El Diablo here, there is a character named Wise Owl. He's not an owl, he's a guy! I don't read talking animal comics! I'm a 60-year-old-man! I only read comic books about magical cowboys.

My Dear, Suspicious Friends

Not to brag, but I did successfully predict the hottest new trend of 2024: Rachel and the teraphim! Marilynne Robinson covers it in her new book READING GENESIS. Now, I know what you're thinking. You're thinking I picked up that book just because I knew Rachel and the teraphim would be in it. Oh, my dear, suspicious friends. Nothing could be further from the truth. I guess a few things could be further from the truth. After all, I know about the contents of Genesis from my many mornings in Sunday school. And the story of Jacob, which includes Rachel and the teraphim, also contains my favorite Bible character (as this important document ["click" here] from fifteen years ago will confirm), Esau. I was a bit put off by the very rough treatment given to Esau by Thomas Mann. Marilynne Robinson goes easier on him in the end, though she does call him a "boor," ha ha! I seem to be forgetting the task at hand, which is to show you why you're all wrong about me, all the time. See, I happened to find READING GENESIS at Square Books, and I remembered seeing something nice in the New York Times about it, and I've always meant to get into Marilynne Robinson somehow or another, and that's all there is to it. Though I did text Megan that I thought it was going to be a good companion piece to JOSEPH AND HIS BROTHERS. Yes, that's the kind of thing we text about! Sometimes! And I was right. I dip into READING GENESIS for just five minutes at a time, and that just twice a day, right before I take my blood pressure. I probably read somewhere on the "internet" that you should relax for five minutes before taking your blood pressure. And what could be more relaxing than the Old Testament? Even though I am going through READING GENESIS at such a modest rate, I'm getting near the point where it's going to present spoilers to me as I continue with JOSEPH AND HIS BROTHERS, which I am reading at a much faster clip. I mean to say that Robinson covers in a paragraph what it takes Mann tens of thousands of words to get across. You would think I would be immune to spoilers, given my supposed familiarity with the narrative, but lots of times Mann will tell of an outlandish incident and I'll think, "Well! No way that's in the Bible!" and then I'll look, and there it is in the Bible. Oh! Remember how I said that I loved THE MAGIC MOUNTAIN, but it took me about 100 pages before I really got into it? The same goes for JOSEPH AND HIS BROTHERS, except it takes 200-400 pages to get going.

Of Mice and Dogs

Yesterday, when I was telling you the shameful story of how McNeil's grandfather stole a copy of PAL JOEY, I was looking for something to "link" via "hyperlink" to the words "PAL JOEY." You know how I love to "link" to things! Indeed, if you examine the "blog" with the eye of a scholar, you will soon realize that it is designed in a secret way to be nothing more than a never-ending loop of "hyperlinks" that an immortal person could enjoy forever. (And, as I have emphasized repeatedly, it works much better on your laptop than on your phone, due to the extra bells and whistles. But I'm not the boss of you! Also, you may not exist.) Anyhow, I could have sworn that I had mentioned PAL JOEY on the "blog" before. But as far as I could tell, I had not. So I went ahead and "posted" the damn thing. Pardon my salty language! Later on, I thought, wait a minute, I could swear I "posted" at least a photo of the time when Laraine Newman and I went to William Faulkner's house and one of us (I couldn't remember which) held up, whilst being photographed, Faulkner's own personal copy of PAL JOEY... presumably purchased legally. Turned out I had not "posted" that either... until now! (See above.) Meanwhile, McNeil has been emailing me his thoughts as he begins to read his grandfather's stolen copy of PAL JOEY: "On page 35 of Pal Joey and so far only a dog has shown up. Joey mentions 'mouse' a lot, but that's just when referring to a female human." To be clear, McNeil brings up the dog because he was hoping for an owl. He also learned, from the eponymous Joey, the term "one-arm joint," which he passed along, and I looked it up in my GREEN'S DICTIONARY OF SLANG, which cites, in clarifying the definition, PAL JOEY itself, as I was thrilled beyond measure to report back to McNeil. Just another endless loop.

The Wonderful World of McNeil

McNeil has stumbled across a copy of the novel PAL JOEY that his grandfather checked out of the library... it's 58 years overdue! (See proof above.) The discovery led McNeil to reflect upon his own tardiness. He still has a copy of WITHOUT FEATHERS that was due back on May 26, 1982. "I guess it runs in the family. We get busy and forget!" McNeil's email concludes. Incidentally, McNeil dug out "his" WITHOUT FEATHERS and opened to page five, where he read "The only thing you'll do is in collaboration with an owl."

Innocent Merriment

I was listening to Haydn's Drumroll Symphony... yes, I was! Shut up! And I grew curious about the almost modern-sounding melody line at the very beginning, so I thought I'd see if my quaint and trusty old MILTON CROSS ENCYCLOPEDIA OF THE GREAT COMPOSERS AND THEIR MUSIC had anything to say about it. Well, sorry to report that they devoted just one short paragraph to that work, containing nothing on the subject which had captured my interest. But! Underneath that paragraph was one on the Toy Symphony (now [and I use the word "now" loosely, considering the relative antiquity of the volume] attributed to Mozart's father), for which the following instrumentation was catalogued: "penny trumpet, quail call, rattle, cuckoo, screech-owl whistle, a little drum (in G), and a little triangle." This, Milton Cross and his associates conclude, makes for "innocent merriment to delight both young and old." It also makes the MILTON CROSS ENCYCLOPEDIA OF THE GREAT COMPOSERS AND THEIR MUSIC - Volume I, at least - a book with an owl in it.

Outlaw Pants

As you know, I tell you every time I read a book with an owl in it for secret reasons that no one except we (as I believe is gramatically correct) will ever understand. As you also know, Tom Franklin brought me a bunch of old comic books when I was in the hospital, and in one of them, the masked cowboy known as Vigilante met up with some real rascals (spoiler alert! they were reformed and had been framed!) known colloquially as "owlhoots." I don't suppose any of us will ever forget that. But what you DIDN'T know was that after I got home from the hospital, Tom brought over a fresh stack of old comic books! I was lying in bed reading one of the new batch last night and this character the Two-Gun Kid shoots Jesse James's pants off him! He does it in order to embarrass Jesse James in front of a bunch of schoolchildren. It's an odd choice, but hey, he's the Two-Gun Kid. He uses his two guns to shoot off Jesse James's pants, what's the big deal? Here, let me give you a direct quotation from the Two-Gun Kid himself: "LOOK, YOUNGSTERS! THE OWLHOOT WHO HOLDS UP STAGES IS HAVING TROUBLE HOLDING UP HIS JEANS! AND NOW, JESSE... DANCE!" What may we conclude? Let us consider: Vigilante is a DC character, while the Two-Gun Kid was created by Marvel. Therefore, though these mighty giants of comics publishing were adversarial in every other way, the term "owlhoot" was universal enough to bridge the immense gap between them. Can't we all learn a lesson from that in these trying times? Sidenote: I was going to title this "post" "I Shot Jesse James...'s Pants," an allusion to the Samuel Fuller film I SHOT JESSE JAMES, but no one would have understood or, had they understood, cared.

TV Memories

Last night I turned on the TV, which happened to be tuned to TCM, as it often is, and I saw a super special guest co-hosting a movie presentation, and I was like, "Hey! That's a guy who fired me once!" Actually, he fired Barry and Sven and myself, and we all got in a car (well, not the guy who fired us, but the rest of us did) and drove straight to Manuel's Tavern, suddenly jobless, and on the way there, we saw a dead man lying in the street. I realize now that I recounted this story in an anthology about bars called COME HERE OFTEN?, which I assume still exists in some form, if you'd like more details. I'm not sure there are more details.

Teraphim For Real

Almost exactly two years ago, I made my famous prediction that 2022 would be the year of Rachel and the teraphim. Maybe I was off by a couple of years! Because guess what I just read in JOSEPH AND HIS BROTHERS by Thomas Mann? That's right: a chapter about Rachel and the teraphim. It took me a while to get there, because the book is so big and heavy that I wasn't allowed to lift it during a recent medical adventure (not the most recent medical adventure).

Twisted Dharma Stories

Stopped by Square Books yesterday and picked up a Penguin paperback called BUDDHIST MEDITATION: CLASSIC TEACHINGS FROM TIBET. If it's any of your business! This collection starts with a few old poems, and the second poem in the whole book introduces an image that readers of the "blog" are sure to go into a tizzy over, for reasons of which I need not remind my initiates: "Old Owl sits on the rock and hoots." Next comes a question to which I could only answer yes: "Do you sit upon your rock,/Spouting twisted dharma stories to others?" Speaking of which, I had lots of thoughts about those WORLD'S FINEST COMICS starring Batman and Superman that Tom Franklin brought me in the hospital. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to express them anywhere, except in texts to Tom, but the combination of being sickly and quitting social media is a potent one! Plus, discovering the owl in yet another book opened the door to a legitimate "blog" "post" and now my fingers may type as much as they like and no one can stop them! These comic books are from back when I used to read comic books, and Batman isn't cool and edgy, as I suppose he is now. Like, Superman will say (I paraphrase), "All right, Batman, I'm going to go to outer space and do some important stuff. All you have to do is watch this one guy, and he's literally asleep, can you handle it?" And Batman goes, "Sure thing, Superman!" (Again, I paraphrase.) And in the VERY NEXT PANEL, someone is bashing Batman in the back of the head with a big stick. Down he goes, out for the count! He had one job, as the hilarious meme from years gone by would have it. I have always pictured Batman as being very alert. On the anecdotal evidence of the two issues of WORLD'S FINEST that Tom brought me, I can also say that Batman and Superman are surprisingly testy with one another, bickering and petty, like some old couples. Often, they keep their bitter feelings deep down inside, and express them only in thought bubbles. Here I will cease paraphrasing and give you a couple of direct quotations. "WHERE IN BLAZES IS SUPERMAN? WE WERE SUPPOSED TO MEET HERE BY THIS OLD SUGAR MILL BY NOON!" Batman sulks with a petulant look on his face. From a separate story: "BLAST! IT'S ALL BATMAN'S FAULT... IT WAS HIS TIP I ACTED ON. SOME DETECTIVE!" Superman silently rages. "AND WHERE IS HE?" he adds, exposing the odd Beckett-adjacent sub-theme of these comics, which is that Batman and Superman wait around for each other a lot, demi-gods paralyzed to helplessness by a perceived dependency that perhaps does not exist. In the same story, Superman is so over Batman's crap that he demolishes an office desk with his fist in frustration, although it is not adequately explained why Superman is sitting behind an office desk like a chump. In conclusion, Dr. Theresa reports that there is a rabbit in the backyard RIGHT NOW. And it's Easter!

Without Elaboration

We went to the drugstore. I've been sick! Anyway, this drugstore packs a lot of novelties onto its shelves, such as (seen above) a lantern in the shape of an owl. I was like, "Hey, Dr. Theresa, get this for me as a treat, because I've been sick!" (I had conveniently left my wallet at home.) Then I turned over the lantern in my supple hands and read the sticker on the bottom, which said "MADE IN CHINA" and (without elaboration) "Cancer and Reproductive Harm." So we didn't buy the lantern.

Unattributed Owl

I was convalescing this weekend in a MAGIC MOUNTAIN style medical facility when Tom Franklin dropped by with an armload of old comic books to help me pass the miserable hours. Now, one of these comics was a Gold Key publication about a superhero called THE OWL, and he seemed vaguely familiar. Soon enough, I remembered that I had run across a panel or two of the Owl subduing his foes with the use of his gun that shoots out rainbows. I had no context, and I passed it along to you without context, you're welcome. Somehow it never occurred to me - until now! - that a comic book called THE OWL should go on my long list of books with owls in them. After all, I have included other comic books on the list... off the top of my head, THE DEMON by Jack Kirby, DAREDEVIL, and Grant Morrison's THE INVISIBLES. Not trying very hard, I couldn't find details of authorship in my copy of THE OWL, save for a splash page signed by "Siegel & Gill." And you know what? That's all the effort I'm going to put into it. Old me would have scoured the "internet" for more information. But in case you can't tell, I've been sick. Get off my back! I will tell you that the Owl has a robot owl named Owlo. That seems important. In fact, he has an endless supply of robot owls named Owlo, in case something happens to one of them. During Tom's visit, we discussed many things, such as whether Deadman, a ghost superhero who shoves his soul into the bodies of other people, could inhabit Superman, who is, after all, not human, but some kind of freaky alien. Then Tom brought up the obscure cowboy superhero Vigilante... yes, I believe "superhero" is an accurate term. Vigilante (pictured above) doesn't have otherworldly powers, but neither does Batman. Case closed. Anyhow, imagine my delight when, after Tom had left, I found this on the cover of a WORLD'S FINEST comic: "VIGILANTE ROUTS THE 'REFORMED OWL-HOOT CLUB.'" Please note, that's owl-hoot, not hoot-owl, as I originally misread it. The story itself begins with this narration: "DYED-IN-THE-WOOL WESTERNERS WILL TELL YOU 'ONCE AN OWLHOOT, ALWAYS AN OWLHOOT!'" That's right, the cover used a hyphen but the actual comic did not. All this, perhaps, sheds some light on a phrase from TRUE GRIT that I seemingly found mysterious ("click" here for details. You usually ignore such exhortations, but I've been sick!). In conclusion, it seems that I have never mentioned on the "blog" - though it hardly seems possible (that I haven't mentioned it, I mean) - that I had a letter to the editor published in WORLD'S FINEST COMICS when I was a kid. It was a pretty sarcastic letter.

Throwing Pennies at Jerry

Remember when I quit social media? It was in all the papers. So, for example, now, when I turn on TCM just as CITIZEN KANE is beginning, and notice for the first time in my life that two little monkeys appear within the first minute of that film, I can't just "tweet" at Laura Lippman about it, as part of a pointless gag that goes back at least as far as 2008. No, I have to sit down and compose a thoughtful email about the two little monkeys in CITIZEN KANE. Such is my lot in life, due to my own choices! Similarly, I have just had word from Brian Z., a person I formerly knew only from those electronic and ethereal environs - and, in fact, whom I still know only from electronic and ethereal environs, assuming that's what email is. Brian Z. emails to say that he recently saw "a very rare old Technicolor print" of THE NUTTY PROFESSOR in Chicago. Before the screening, someone involved with the Film Society stood up and read a vintage magazine report of Jerry's activities during the original promotional tour for the film. In one incident thus recounted, and paraphrased here by Brian Z., "Jerry is out in public and some kids throw pennies at him. He stops what he's doing to investigate the source of the pennies and gives the boys a dressing-down after taking the time to locate them." An attentive "blog" reader cannot help but be reminded, I am sure, of the time Frank Sinatra was pelted with raw eggs. What a world! Brian Z. was concerned that I had, perhaps, lost interest in Jerry Lewis, not having "blogged" about him since April of 2023. Let me assure one and all that nothing could be further from the truth! I thank Brian Z. for a timely reminder not to take Jerry for granted. As the Bible says (I Thessalonians 5:22), "Abstain from all appearance of evil." Related (?): Brian Z. makes note of "a couple of laughter-signaling guys in my row who were braying a little too forcefully to be credible." The same "blog" reader who thought of Frank Sinatra being pelted by eggs may now be reminded of what once happened to me during a Samuel Beckett play. As I remarked in my email reply to Brian Z., it is one more way in which Samuel Beckett and Jerry Lewis are just alike. (See also, Kierkegaard's thoughts on farce.) Supplementary reading: "Click" here for details of another museum-grade Jerry screening.

New Pinnacles of Disengagement

I am sure I do not have to remind you how I cared deeply about the Oscars from approximately age 10 to age 50, followed by a steep decline lasting a decade or so. In fact, a couple of years ago, I stopped watching the show altogether, as your research into my personal habits has no doubt affirmed already. Moreover, I did not even know that this year's Oscars were happening until 8:30 PM Central Time on the night before the ceremony. Nevertheless, my sister and I (she has precociously developed a similar disinclination to engage with awards season) cannot get out of the habit of trying to beat one another soundly when it comes to guessing the winners. It gives me no pleasure to say that I trounced her for the first time in many years, my victory leaving an ashy, bitter taste of irony in my mouth, given that neither of us cares anymore. About anything!

That Upon Which I Was Sitting

I was sitting on something for secret reasons that no longer require sitting. Forget about those reasons, for they are defunct. The important thing is that I fished out my COMPLETE ILLUSTRATED WORKS OF LEWIS CARROLL some months ago... it is still over there, in my home office, sitting forlorn atop a box of Daily Racing Forms from 1956 (long story, or maybe no story); I need to reshelve it. But that is not what I came here to tell you! Those months ago, when I fished it out for my secret reasons, I opened ALICE'S ADVENTURES IN WONDERLAND with fateful randomness to a passage I had somehow never noticed before, in which we are informed via poem that "the Owl and the Panther were sharing a pie." If you do not understand why I am telling you this, I advise you to spend the next several years studying this "blog."

The Official Record

Well, McNeil has combed through his journals and I find myself compelled to issue a clarification on earlier "blog" matters. As I am sure you will recall with crystal-clear accuracy, and without even needing to "click" on this "link," McNeil claimed that I had boasted to him that I had met Phyllis Diller. I denied it, as I never met Phyllis Diller. McNeil said that in that case I had been lying to him, and vowed to scour his archives for proof. I scoffed at such an attempt. And yet, in a way, I was wrong. And yet, in another way, I was right. In McNeil's journal entry of November 6, 1998, he writes, "Talked to Jack this afternoon and learned that he is going to meet Phyllis Diller next week." First, please note that the meeting is to take place in the future, as far as November 6, 1998 is concerned. And it really was supposed to happen, though I had forgotten about it until McNeil's recent communication. My friend Ward McCarthy and I were making a thing called "The Movie Lounge," and we had asked Phyllis Diller to comment on the Chuck Norris film INVASION USA, in which she sort of appears in a particular capacity ("click" here for more details. I know you won't!). At the remove of all these years, it is easy for me to imagine why she or her representatives abruptly pulled out of the scheduled appearance. Let me say, however, that although I once told McNeil that I was "going to meet" Phyllis Diller, as was supposed to be the case, I never told him that I had "met" Phyllis Diller - an event, I reiterate, that sadly did not occur after all. I cannot recall whom we got to talk about INVASION USA in Ms. Diller's stead. That is a question for Movie Lounge host Kent Osborne. In the sort of coincidence that McNeil and I both enjoy - and I hope it will bring him succor as this incident draws to its belated close - Ace Atkins and I had a talk about INVASION USA on our most recent walk around the neighborhood, which my diary reminds me took place on Monday, February 26 of this year.

I'm Not Cool

It is my duty to report that I will be wearing giant wraparound sunglasses at the event tomorrow, not an eye patch as previously predicted. Please be advised that I received the giant wraparound sunglasses at the surgery center and will be wearing them under the orders of a physician. I am not trying to look "cool."

In the Way

Hello! I will be doing a little DJ set at The End of All of Music at 3 PM local time on Friday, March 1. Chances are good that I will be wearing an eye patch for legitimate medical reasons. "Click" here for more details (about the event, not the eye patch). Remember when I quit social media? That is why this will sadly have to do in the way of promotion.

Another Thing

Another thing that Hanna and I argue about is GILMORE GIRLS, of course. As you can imagine, the subject of contention is a ranking of Rory's boyfriends by suitability.

Skyland

Well, it's Presidents' Day, and you know what that means, of course: no work for today in the animation business. At least here in the USA! To our Swedish coworker Hanna, for example, Presidents' Day is nothing but an incomrpehensible travesty on the occasion of which we take away her pens and pencils. Oh, how we love to rib Hanna about Presidents' Day. And by "we," I mean "I." Anyway, one thing is for sure: now I have time to let you know about all the latest updates on the book report that McNeil wrote for school 45 years ago... a story the "blog" has been working to crack since 2012! I've just been sitting on this hot breaking news, waiting for a time like Presidents' Day. I can keep you in suspense no longer! McNeil found his actual, original copy of the book (The Crash of 2086, you've never heard of it) in "a box in the garage crammed between a copy of the movie EXECUTIVE SUITE, and an even older book called 'Never Trust Anyone Over 13.' I paid 62 cents for the Crash book, 29 cents for the 13 book - both from The Book Rack in Skyland Shopping Center." Readers will be excited to learn that the Skyland Shopping Center in Mobile, Alabama, is also where McNeil saw his first liter bottle of Coca-Cola, and it made a huge impression on him, as previously reported on the "blog." We are assuming that the copy of the movie mentioned above is a VHS tape, but clarifications or corrections will be issued as necessary.

Yes, I Have Noticed

As you know, every book I read has an owl in it, and one such book was MAGPIE MURDERS by Anthony Horowitz. And now another such book is the sequel, MOONFLOWER MURDERS, in which he gets to the owl right away, "a rather fine owl with its wings outstretched." I had no chance to even put down the book before the owls kept coming and finally a character said, as if taunting me personally, "Actually, you may have noticed, we've put owls everywhere." He means at the hotel he owns, the mascot of which is an owl, OR DOES HE? Authors, I am certain you will agree, have become so blatant with their owls these days, taking the fun out of it for all of us (me) who have trained themselves to find the owl in every book, thereby barely clinging to a scrap of hope for order and purpose in an otherwise bleak universe.

Top Three

Last night we discussed it thoroughly, and you will be excited to hear that Dr. Theresa and I agree about which three movie lines we most often say to each other around the house on various humorous occasions, and they never get old! In the number three spot, we have "I know what you're going to do. It's a bad thing, and I'm going to tell." For number two, "I'm smart! Not like everybody says." Number one came as somewhat of a surprise to us, but we do say it an awful lot, and it is undeniably versatile and useful. I can keep you in suspense no longer. "Ain't nothing horrible going to happen today!" from WALK HARD takes the coveted gold medal.

Hole to Hole

Based on contextual evidence from my precious, precious diary, I must have gone back to Square Books on January 4th. I know this because I had lunch with Tom Franklin that day, and I never go to the square without making some time for the bookstore. I also have noted in my diary that a young person stopped me to take my photograph that day because he liked the hat that Katie made for me. And I remember being on the sidewalk at that moment, headed for Square Books. But that is not what I want to tell you about. But it is a pretty nice hat. Anyway, it must have been on January 4th - though the diary does not explicitly state as much - that I picked up RAMAYANA, the adaptation by William Buck. I did so because when I saw it, I recalled the high esteem in which Lee Durkee holds William Buck. My diary goes on to tell me that I finally began reading the book early in our week of being snowed in. But what I've been saving just for you is that last night I read the part where Rama is (spoiler alert!) exiled from the city, and his chariot driver predicts that as a result "these broad ways will be the paths where wild cats and owls roam. Rats will crawl and cunning snakes will slither from hole to hole." If you ask me, the cats and owls should take care of the rats and snakes, but what do I know? In conclusion, I was once again given to wonder why every book has an owl in it, as you can see for yourself by "clicking" here. In further conclusion, allow me to share a fascinating detail not included in the diary: the young person took my photo not with his phone, but with a clunky old-time camera such as Jimmy Olsen might have used.

Dicey

In our neighborhood, last week's snow still sticks stubbornly to the ground, and I am not permitted to walk down our steep driveway to the mailbox, but Dr. Theresa somehow made it to the grocery store and back, despite road conditions that were - to use her own word in a texted response to an inquiry on the subject from Ace Atkins - "dicey." Dicey and icy, I would add here, to the amusement of one and all. I was in a meeting for Season 2 of ADVENTURE TIME: FIONNA AND CAKE when Dr. Theresa left the house, heedlessly embracing danger, and therefore found myself powerless to stop her! Anyway, given the obligations of the "blog," I knew I should mention that we are no longer snowed in, or so it would seem.

Yes

Some of you, if you exist, may be asking, "Are you still snowed in?" The answer is yes, since Sunday. Ace, however, managed to get his truck out of the neighborhood yesterday, and he brought us back enough chicken thighs to feed an army.

Reason

For no reason, here is a picture of Pen and me at Doris Day's favorite French restaurant. Photo by Megan Abbott! Well, I thought of a reason: I quit social media, but maybe part of my brain doesn't understand that. Because this is the sort of thing that would wind up on social media. Speaking of which! Remember when I quit "blogging"? Well, I think there was a time when I really did. And I'll tell you what I mean. I poked around to see whether I had ever mentioned this restaurant before, and to my shock, it turns out that I didn't report my November 2019 trip to Los Angeles (when the above photo was taken) AT ALL! Usually, I will give you a little something from my wee little jotting book in the way of travel notes that no one reads. But nope! This trip was almost lost to history. Which would have been fine, honestly. But we're snowed in and I have nothing to do.

Dear Diary

Did you know I keep a handwritten diary, just like Brian Cox and Lord Wariston? Diaries are the original "blog." Diaries are the original TikTok! Diaries were a TikTok you could damn well keep to yourself. Pardon my salty language! And my inaccurate understanding of what TikTok is. Anyway, my diary is how I know that it was New Year's Eve when Dr. Theresa and I went to Square Books and I, uncharacteristically, could not find anything I wanted to drop my money on. Dr. Theresa, however, came away with three juicy mystery novels, one of which I idly picked up and really got into. Now we are entering territory that was not explored in the diary. Exclusive content! So I was like, "This book is called MAGPIE MURDERS. It is really heavy on the magpies! There are magpies everywhere you look in this thing. There is NO WAY this author is going to give me magpies AND owls!" ("Click" here to begin a years-long journey that will slowly and poorly deepen your knowledge of my interest in the matter.) Anyway, last night we were reading in bed as outside the snow was falling on the ground and I was suddenly presented with this fact by the narrator of MAGPIE MURDERS: "A nineteenth-century naturalist named Thomas Blakiston had an owl named after him."

I Didn't Know

Yesterday, Dr. Theresa and I were watching the movie I, FRANKENSTEIN for reasons your frail human mind could never understand, and neither could ours. The following may contain at least one spoiler for the movie I, FRANKENSTEIN, which came out 10 years ago, though it feels like it came out 200 years ago, in a different universe. Anyway! At one point, a skeptical modern-day scientist gets hold of Dr. Frankenstein's notebook, and opens it, and says with delight, "Oh! He used electric eels!" Because before that, she didn't believe Dr. Frankenstein would have access to electricity. Now that she has read about the electric eels, she believes in Dr. Frankenstein, like he's Santa Claus! Well, that caused me to ask Dr. Theresa aloud, "What's the deal with electric eels anyway?" Before she could answer, I screamed in excitement, "Oh, yeah! I have a whole book about electric eels!" (See also.) I was referring, of course, to ELECTRIC EEL CALLING, lavishly illustrated by its author. Off I scampered to the bookshelf, which happened to be in the very room where we were watching I, FRANKENSTEIN, to retrieve my copy of ELECTRIC EEL CALLING. It was published in 1941, and I acquired it circa 2009, and I finally had a reason to open it. One thing I read was the author's contention that the people of South America were "the first humans in all the world to find [electricity] in a palpable form, and although the Egyptians are credited with the earliest observation of electric fish (the electric catfish of the Nile)"... wait! Let's just stop the sentence right there. I interrupted I, FRANKENSTEIN to yell towards Dr. Theresa all manner of questions about the electric catfish, such as, did she know about it? She lived in Egypt for a number of years. I, myself, had reached the age of 60 (I started this "blog" as a wee, apple-cheeked lad of only 43... my God! What a nightmare), and had just discovered, for the first time, in this old book, the existence of the electric catfish of the Nile, which I assume everyone else reading this (there is no one reading this) knew about already. I'm always late to the party. However, due to my strict policy of "blogging" about things that remind me of other things I have "blogged" about before, I thought I should publicly acknowledge these electric catfish, as the catfish of ancient Egypt have previously appeared in this space, though I was shamefully ignorant at the time of their electrical talents. In conclusion, if you do not "click" on the "links," you are really missing the point of the "blog," which is nothing less than a vast, oddly constructed historical novel meant to be read Julio Cortazar style! That's what I'm telling myself these days.

On the Coffee Table

Our old house didn't have a coffee table but our new one (is it still new?) does. Most often, I sit in my favorite chair, which does not have direct access to the coffee table. But yesterday, I was on the couch, and I reached down and picked up a "coffee table book" - to be precise, a book of photographs by the artist who called herself "Madame Yevonde." Well, it so turns out that one of Madame Yevonde's models was all done up as Minerva, in a shiny metal hat and holding a menacing revolver, and you know what that means! Yes, an owl was sitting there with her, like, "What's up?" Make it YOUR new year's resolution to figure out why I tell you every time I read a book with an owl in it.