That, right there, is what you call a “teachable moment.”
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In one of my flippant, wine-accompanied, philosophical moments, the other night, I found myself saying, “Well, if it’s possible, it’s necessary.” It just fell out. You know, I was standing around, my mouth was open, and then, Boom. There it was, a whole sentence, a sentiment of ontological bent, floating around the room. Now, I usually say things for two reasons: Either I like the way it sounds (which is a sort of philosophy in and of itself), or I’m not aware of what I’m saying (which is more often the case). Of course, far be it from me to retract a statement....
Mercy Blog, Part 3: A Nearly Christian Apology for Eighth Grade
So, the other day I was in Piggly Wiggly (or as U.L. calls it, The Pig) to purchase an eggplant, and while fondling the produce, legally - i.e., all fruits and vegetables were at least 18 days or older - I overheard two people, down by the locally grown peanuts bin (the peanuts were locally grown, not the bin - it was cardboard) discussing the stupid behavior of one of their other friends...I imagined the friend was the topic of conversation as the result of some weekend revelry. One said, "And I was like, God, this is stupid. You're being so eighth...
January 2004: The Five-Day Cider War
I've just about decided that there's nothing that karaoke can't fix. If it can train a Sicilian and a Southerner to live together, in harmony, then at the next G8, or G12, G+number, Summit...we need to hire Disco Dan, or Happy Butch to grab their mic stands and their CDs. I resisted this, what to me, was merely a bar-room, nocturnal, alcohol-fueled passtime, for many years. I felt that I couldn't possibly degrade myself, a real singer, I thought to myself, to such a ridiculously low-level thirst for spotlight attention. Ah, but what a little spotlight can do. With my brief second tenure in Indiana, I...
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