Stare.
 
2001 Notebook: Weak XXVI
 
   
26 June 2001
Harriet’s Visit, Twice Removed
I had a dream last night, and, as I dreamt, I had another dream. I was surprised to see Harriet in my dream within a dream; I haven’t seen her since she died.

“Harriet,” I began, “what are you doing here?”

“David,” she replied, “don’t you remember? You invited me from your other dream.”

I couldn’t argue with that. I had nothing to say to her.

27 June 2001
Sure Is Thirsty Out
It sure is thirsty out.

Gotta do something about that.

Gotta do something about that real soon.

28 June 2001
Avant-Garde Monsters
I try to keep an open mind about most things, but I draw the line when it comes to the so-called avant-garde. Or, more accurately, the phrase “avant-garde.”

Feh!

The avant-garde never was, and never will be, avant-garde. I believe Rebecca Solnit said it best:

“The idea of the avant-garde—which after all is a military term—presumes that we are all marching in the same direction; because we are all marching in the same direction we ought all like the same things, and avant-garde public art is supposed to be one of those things we will like if we continue marching forward.”

Andrei Codrescu addressed the problem on less philosophical and more practical level.

“The avant-garde has created a lot of monsters.”

That’s really about all there is to say about the “avant-garde.”

Feh!

29 June 2001
Mutual Admiration Society
Theresa’s back from Laos, and now she’s on my laboratory roof with me drinking Rainier Ale.

I tell Theresa she’s more beautiful than I remember her.

Teresa confides—since she knows me as a dear friend—that I’m not as ugly as I would appear to be to some people who didn’t know any better.

We continue to drink Rainier Ale and compliment each other until the cold fog forces us back down the hatch.

30 June 2001
Rhymes with “Fun Part”
Meg and I were clamoring down the cliff to the beach when I thought I heard someone call my name.

“Meg,” I asked, “did you just hear someone say ‘Rinehart?’”

“No,” Meg corrected, “I believe they said ‘here’s the fun part.’”

“Wow!” I repleid. “I never realized that ‘Rinehart’ rhymes with ‘fun part’ until now.”

Meg replied with one of her quizzical furrowed-brow expressions, one of the seventy-three reasons that makes hiking with her quite pleasant.

1 July 2001
Free Beer Sells Itself
I just saw an ad for “Free Beer, the only beer that matters.”

Although “the only beer that matters” is a reasonably clever bit of advertising copywriting, it seems unnecessary, redundant. After all, free beer sells itself.

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©2001 David Glenn Rinehart