Sometimes I Don’t Want To Write a Title.

On the television yesterday morning was an ad for Cheaper By the Dozen boldly claiming, “The Number One Comedy of the Year!” It was January 9th. Perhaps it could calm down a little.

Then, on the kitchen counter, stee had left open a Hollywood Reporter, where fans of Tarzan had taken out a half-page ad, demanding the show return to the air. It called themselves “A global network of fans.”

Stee had drawn on the ad in pen a girl, shaking her fists, screaming, “Take off your shirt, Monkey Boy!”

I went to Michaels yesterday (noticed as I walked in that there’s no apostrophe in that name. I wouldn’t have guessed that.), and bought yarn for a scarf I’m making for stee. A small Russian woman stood in line behind me.

“What are you knitting?” she asked.

“Oh. A scarf.”

“I do blankets,” she said, her arms filled with about twelve skeins of the same color yarn.

“Does that take a long time?” I asked her.

“I knit very fast,” she said with a cheeky smile. “But about a month, it will take.”


“Can I see what you are knitting?” I happened to have the pattern on me, which I had printed out. I showed her the page.

“That is so nice,” she said. “Where did you find the pattern?”

“Let’s see. This one says Better Homes and Gardens dot com.”

She stared at me and cocked her head.

“It’s from The Internet,” I explained. She didn’t move a muscle.

“Would you like to have this pattern?” I asked her.


“Sure. I can get another one.”

“Oh, thank you. You’re such a nice girl. Thank you.”

It’s at this point you can’t go, “I just hit open apple ‘p’ on my computer and I’ve got another one.” You have to take the praise, and the slight guilt that comes with it, like when everybody is so impressed with the dinner you made that took all of five minutes to prepare.

“Good luck with your blanket,” I said to her.

“Wait. I must see the yarn you’re using.” She touched everything and then let me go. “Good yarn,” she said, nodding.

Stee’s scarf has been blessed!

Hey, does this happen to anybody else? I’m just walking along, minding my own business, and then for about an hour, the Trading Spaces theme song will be stuck in my head. Y’all, I’ve seen that show about eight times, all in one week, a year ago, just to know what the hype was all about. It was worth it for the Eddie Izzard show, but man. It just plays and plays in my head, and I imagine the rooms in my house going through a huge transformation as I’m walking through them.

I’m going insane.

Speaking of crazy, tonight at midnight I’ll be performing here:

You won’t know what hit you. I’ll be playing the role of The Silver Lake Blogger. I’m not kidding.

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