Hooray, it's Ash Wednesday.

It's March the first and I am utterly excited. Yesterday was Fat Tuesday and I completely forgot about the whole damn thing. I guess I'll just have to celebrate Ash Wednesday by being utterly and hopelessly depressed. It's not the sort of thing you relish, but I don't understand why they don't allow us to get presents on this holy day. It's been two whole months since I've received some arbitrary gift for a holiday I don't celebrate, so why not one now? Actually, I think I might make it "Ash" Wednesday and watch the entire Evil Dead trilogy while drinking the last of my Harp's Lager from this weekend. Is there anybody out there with me? Oh well, it's at least a thought.

I don't know that I've mentioned it, but I make beer in my spare time. Here's an idea. Okay, you've heard of blueberry beer, strawberry blondes, and jalapeno hot brew. What about RANCH beer? Okay, I can't even take credit for the idea, but I do know that I'm going to try it. If it doesn't work, maybe I'll make my million elsewhere. But just know this: Heinz had 56 recipes before they perfected that tangy sauce that can be slathered on everything, from ribs to hamburgers. Or was it WD, who had 39 of his own tries at lubricating metal and preventing squeaks? I can't remember.

Otherwise, I'm reading Jim Harrison's Wolf and, after tha, Graham Greene's The Third Man. Then I will read my deluxe, illustrated edition of 'Salem's Lot by Stephen King.
I know you're excited, but get your own damn books and stop reading my list. Oh, and to add another nerdy note to this already dorky post (Markie Post?), I've been listenig to books on TAPE. No, not CD, the relatively modern technology or MP3, the newer of the three, but CASSETTE TAPE. I can explain. It's a result of my having applied for a membership at the local ACC library. They have a wide selection of books - which I listen to while at work - though they only come on tape. Go figure. I look ancient and out of touch with society and feel about three times worse when I checkout. Even the lady behind the counter looks at me like I need to get with the program. That's my gut-check moment of the day. You try it and see how stupid you feel walking out of the library with "Timeline" and "Silence of the Lambs" under your arm, all old blocky and tapey.

A few thoughts on war. . .Thank you, Jim Harrison

I know that I said I wouldn't discuss war or politics in this blog, but something just caught my fancy. My roommate convinced me to read a Jim Harrison novel (actually, it's a false memoir, but who's splitting hairs here) and in one section he talks about the draft, which we all hope never rears its tumultuous and grizzly head ever again:

"I've always felt that the draft should begin with fifty-year-old men and descend in age. Give young men a chance to live a little, taste things, before they get their asses shot off in Asia. Also draft at least 25 per cent of Congress. Let them draw straws for front line duty. I suspect then that the vote for entering a war would be a trifle more cautious. Any fifty-year-old that can play eighteen holes of golf can certainly use his weak forefinger to pull a trigger and his chubby legs to hike through swamps" (Harrison, Wolf, p. 105).

Ha ha ha, right? What a funny, rude joke to be playing. I don't think so. It seems ridiculous to most people that the privileged should suffer a little too. Not to me. It's not ridiculous, just a little idealistic to think that the people who reap so much from these things in which we engage should have to give a little too. Just remember, kids: the term "eye for an eye" has nothing to do with vengeance. No, indeed, it is just a call for equality.