Stare.
 
2006 Notebook: Weak XVII
 
   
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24 April 2006
No. 6,735 (cartoon)
No one has a higher opinion of you than I do.

Really?

I think you’re rancid scum.

25 April 2006
Curious Legal Queries
Once upon a time decades ago, I was courting a lovely woman with a law degree. She wisely chose not to pursue employment as a lawyer, yet maintained a working knowledge of contemporary legal debates. Unfortunately for me—and perhaps for her, as well—she moved to rural Arkansas.

I wish she was still in San Francisco, for I’m curious about a couple of recent legal cases. In North Carolina, a district attorney charged a couple of gentlemen with the crime of, “castration without malice.” I wonder of there’s some nuanced legal differentiation between that crime and castration with malice. I should think so, but no one except those au fait with the law ever knows these things.

Meanwhile, in Germany, a woman driving her recently-deceased mother’s body from here to there was fined for, “disturbing a dead person’s peace.” Once one’s dead, is there a state other than peace? And isn’t that a theological question, not a legal matter?

I miss Dr. Kilpatrick’s learned company.

26 April 2006
More Art, Obviously
Nora showed up at my studio tonight with depression written all over her face, figuratively speaking. (As an aside, I thought it was important to mention “figuratively speaking,” since many lesser artists would have literally written “depression” all over their faces.)

“What’s the matter, m’dear?” I asked.

“I’m depressed because I’m not making any art these days,” Nora confided.

“Well then,” I replied, “perhaps you should make some art.”

“That’s a great idea!” Nora responded after thinking about my proposition for a couple of seconds.

I wonder why the obvious solutions are the hardest to find?

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27 April 2006
Mongoliamania
I went to Comrade Dingle’s gallery tonight for an evening of Mongolian art with his friends Khurlebaatar and Munktsetseg. I quite liked the show, but then who couldn’t appreciate photorealistic paintings of beautiful women with pet leopards on leashes?

By the time the band came on, I’d enjoyed enough of the free wine to deeply appreciate the horse fiddle players. And regardless of any imbibing, I can say with certainty that I’ve never heard more moving Mongolian throat singing.

Later, I called a friend who’s spent quite a bit of time in Mongolia to tell her about the delightful evening. She said it sounded like an atypical Mongolian experience, and recommended that I go on a yak butter fast until I started hallucinating from a lack of fruit and vegetables. I’m not going to take her well-intentioned advice; I much prefer Comrade Dingle’s edited version of Mongolian culture.

28 April 2006
Take In or Take Out?
Another day, another silly semantic debate similar in intellectual weight to the recent examination of shutting computers up and down.

Over a delicious dinner from a local restaurant, Doctors Rosen and I debated whether we were eating “Chinese take out” or “Chinese take in” food. The debate lasted for hours, and now I can’t remember who—if anyone—won. I suppose it doesn’t matter, for I also can’t remember my position on the issue. As pedants go, I’m certainly not a very good one.

29 April 2006
Another Embarrassing Elevator Encounter
I was alone in an elevator this afternoon when a lovely young woman got in on the third floor.

“Can I smell your crotch?” she asked after the door closed.

I was stunned by her query, and couldn’t come up with a reply.

“Then it must be your feet,” she announced as she backed away from me.

Dang, that’s the most embarrassing elevator experience I’ve had since the misinterpreted sex request in Berlin. I really should take the stairs more often.

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©2006 David Glenn Rinehart