Stare.
 
2003 Notebook: Weak L
 
   
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11 December 2003
No. 4,884 (cartoon)
I’m driven by my ego.

You’re driven by your insecurity.

Same thing.

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12 December 2003
Claudia’s Rejoinder
I spent today working with Claudia on a creative venture. I began our discussion with a pro forma statement about avoiding clichés.

“Some days you can be cliché and still be touché,” Claudia replied.

And that’s more or less what happened.

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13 December 2003
Lisa’s Concert
A friend of mine who lives eight thousand kilometers away told me that a singer named Lisa Rein was performing a concert a couple of kilometers from here. She rented a hall, bought a sea of beer and wine and a hectare of food, then invited everyone in North America to come.

I attended the performances, and had a predictably lovely time. I enjoyed her attitude of creating an event without concern for finances or waiting for someone to offer her an engagement. After listening to mediocre artists whine endlessly that no one offers them any support, I very much enjoyed Lisa’s do-it-yourself approach. Art events always seem better when they’re created by ambitious artists than by flaccid administraitors.

14 December 2003
A Letter from Outer Space
Suzanna told me she received a letter from outer space.

“Is this some sort of joke about Uranus?” I asked.

“It’s certainly not,” Suzanna insisted. “And anyway, Uranus is in our solar system, not in outer space proper.”

“I don’t see how you could receive a letter from outer space,” I replied. “Even if traveled at the speed of light, your cosmic pen pal would almost certainly have had to compose and send it before your grandparents were conceived. HD 70642, the nearest thing to a solar system in our neighborhood, is almost a hundred light years away.”

“Maybe it wasn’t written to me personally,” Suzanna said.

“You make it sound like intergalactic junk mail,” I replied.

“Forget it,” Suzanna snapped, “Just forget it. You’re a complete waste of time.”

I was tempted to reply, “just like junk mail,” but decided to remain atypically silent. If Suzanna really did receive such a missive she’ll show it to me sooner than later.

15 December 2003
Less Is Better
Since Adrienne and I aren’t too close these days, I suggested that we should have a long conversation in order to allow us to beter understand recent developments.

“Actually,” she replied, “knowing less would be better.”

“Knowing less in what way?” I asked.

“Knowing less as in shut up, don’t write, don’t call, and go away,” Adrienne explained tersely.

I knew exactly what she meant; sometimes people act strange. I predict she’ll be better within a decade; that’s the way these things have always worked out in the past.

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16 December 2003
Birds and Bees
I recently visited the conservatory in Golden Gate Park, the lovely Victorian greenhouse that recently reopened after it was almost destroyed by a brutal windstorm some years ago.

I enjoyed the immediate transition from the clammy Pacific storm enveloping San Francisco into a warm, humid tropical climate. The people who restored the conservatory did a great job; everything was as I remembered it except for a curious addition.

The new conservatory features a small classroom with a dozen desks and a blackboard. When I visited, this education room also had a lifesized photograph of a teenage girl dressed like a child prostitute. She was holding a publication entitled, “Birds and Bees.” The “Birds and Bees” message was also repeated on the blackboard. I wanted to stay for the sex education class, but my companion didn’t.

And that’s the reason I don’t know why there’s the manifestation of a teenage prostitute the conservatory in Golden Gate Park.

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©2003 David Glenn Rinehart