- 11 December 2007
- No. 4,612 (cartoon)
- Why are you so depressed?
Because I dont know why Im so depressed.
- 12 December 2007
- Wine Style (or Lack Thereof)
- I was enjoying an erudite conversation with my learned friend Dr. Landweber, when he brought up a trivial matter. He talked with great enthusiasm about an undiscovered thrift shop high in the Sierra where one can buy four wine glasses for a dollar. He added that hed purchased fourteen of them, and was most satisfied with his acquisition.
But wine generally comes in a glass, I noted, albeit a glass bottle.
Thats an astute observation, Dr. Landweber observed, coming, as it does, from someone who buys his wine in a box.
Its a matter of practicality, I continued. Why pay for redundant glass?
Its not about the delivery device, Dr. Landweber replied, wine is all about style.
I didnt know what to say; it appears that Ive been enjoying wine for all wrong reasons for decades. I guess I shouldnt have listened to Priscilla Post, who helped me discover that wine makes one inebriated.
Style, imagine that!
- 13 December 2007
- Depressive Amnesia
- Jody and I were in a good mood, and so we were talking about depression. I told her I liked Chriss definition of depression, Im helpless, its hopeless.
Jody told me she associated depression with amnesia. I agreed. Im reasonably content because I barely remember my myriad mistakes; I recall then just enough not to repeat them.
It turns out Jody was thinking about something else. She explained that depressed people cant remember not being distressed; they cant remember what it feels like to be elated, alive, fulfilled.
Theres a lot I dont know about depression, and I intend to preserve that ignorance.
- 14 December 2007
- Killing Vanilla
- I enjoyed a tasty lunch with with Dr. Goodlatte this afternoon, and we of course talked about her cat Vanilla, whos on his last legs. Or, less euphemistically, hes suffering from renal failure; hes losing weight and vision at an alarming rate. After watching him bump into large objects in his path, and seeing his gaunt frame and unsteady gate, I gently suggested that it looked like it was about time to have him put to sleep.
Youre right, Dr. Goodlatte agreed, Im afraid Ill have to have him killed soon.
I was struck by her directness. When it comes to ending a companion animals life, Ive only heard and used euphemisms: euthanize, put down, put to sleep. Of course, killing is killing, but its rarely ackmowledged as such.
After lunch, Vanilla sat in the sun beside me, rubbed his head against my leg, and purred. I hope no one kills me while I can still enjoy doing that.
- 15 December 2007
- A Pleasant Victorian Evening
- I had a great time at Bonnies party tonight, even though I was the only one there with a Y chromosome and no tuxedo. I was uncomfortable for a moment, until a number of guests asked me what Id done to be able to avoid dressing up like a penguin. When I told them artists, writers, and musiciansof which Im all threenever have to wear tuxedos unless its to receive a Nobel prize, the magnates, moguls, and wealthy financiers looked a little uncomfortable in their stiff costumes.
But enough about irrelevant superficialities.
Bonnie organized a spectacular evening, with a sea of tasty wine leading to hectares of scrummy food and back again. I quite enjoyed chatting with her guestsespecially Rosemarie, an international woman of mystery. Throw in a few opera singers and a great bluegrass band, and thats about all there is to say about a lovely evening. Especially since thats about all I can remember.
- 16 December 2007
- Condom Hair Ties
- Another day, another curious story from China. I have no idea whether this is because its a country populated by strange people, or if its just a matter of probability that so many bizarre stories emanate from the worlds most populous country.
Todays story comes from The China Daily, which reports that stores and beauty parlors in Guangdong are selling cheap hair bands comprised of used condoms. That sounds like a fine new life for used prophylactics; its clearly better than using them for birth control.
Now that I think about it, the story is the opposite of curious; its thoroughly rational. Why is there no condom recycling program in San Francisco? As usual, the citys not nearly as progressive as its publicists maintain.
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©2007 David Glenn Rinehart