I’m made of sterner stuff than common sense, I’ll have you know.
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I used to get frustrated when I'd be cast in a play, an old one written back, say, in the 1920s, a la Glaspell or O'Neill, and halfway through the play I'd come to one of my lines: "Egads, Helen! Don't do that with your teeth! The zipper's fine." Or... "Eureka! Eureka! I've unlocked the secret code. Now, the children may eat." I hated that type of diction. It was always difficult for me to comprehend who in the world would ever actually say these things. Even harder still when one of the words had a repeat. I had no idea how to even say these words. That is...until today. Today...
The Art of the Dirty Word.
There are a few things in this world that I would wish on everyone: among those are good friends, Chinese take-out, and a Nana. Everyone should have a Nana. I'll just get that out, right upfront. And everyone should go with their Nana to the doctor and spend the whole day eating ice cream sundaes, getting lost on the way to the doctor's office, and making a sidebar trip to an outlet store for a new pair of Sunday shoes. This is but one important thing that makes a Nana so wonderful. To name another would seem like bragging. And that's just not...
That time I almost met Harper Lee.
I take great pride in the Lee last name. According to legend, and also my father who, among his many world travels, visited the "Lee place" in Ireland, etc. I think, from what I can gather, that it was hardly more than a couple of sticks stuck upright in a slab of mortar. I mean, that's been centuries back; the only palpable evidence was that of the family crest, but don't ask me what's on that thing. I couldn't tell you. What I do know is that there were only ever two Lee brothers who set out for the New World. Both...
He'd just always wanted a hearse, he said.
U.L. and I like to take Sunday drives, after dinner, each week. There's no rush to this ritual. We enjoy a long dinner with the rest of the family; we gossip, we share news (even the made-up News, an old habit we used to do when I was younger, that's found some way to stick, even to this day). What you do is, you mute the TV, you guess at what's being said by looking at the graphics, and then you tell your version. It was quite a shock, for instance, when I realized that Bush had actually been re-elected, and even greater still,...
Keeping up with the Jeffersons.
You know how the song goes. I'll just put a verse of it here: Fish don't fry in the kitchen; Beans don't burn on the grill. Took a whole lotta tryin', Just to get up that hill. [...] Finally got a piece of the pie, hi, hi, hi, hiyah, uh, hi. Something like that. My memory may fail me, but I love the song. And, like the Jeffersons, I've moved on up, got my pie (no meringue because that's like pudding, and I hate pudding). My piece of the pie? I've created a website. I have. I'm just not entirely sure how. I know, I know, I can hardly...
"Why don't you go cut the yard. Again."
There is more than a big handful of things I don't understand: why male seahorses carry their young; Kate Bush's song, "Babooshka;" Kate Bush, in general, really; the things you do simply because your family asked you to do them - as in participate in a talent show at a Relay For Life event; and, why anyone should ever be up before 8:00 AM. Let me set the scene: I'd gone back home yesterday, to help out around the house, to be a "good son," like I was brought up to be. And yesterday, as well as last night, I...
[...] losing Language and Outhouses.
![Link to [...] losing Language and Outhouses.](http://cleverkris.com/wp-content/themes/psm/scripts/timthumb.php?src=http://cleverkris.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/r-words.jpg?w=150&h=250&w=250&zc=1)
I originally started this blog because I have come to recognize my, more often than not, Losing Battle with the Thousand Thoughts, something I fully intend to expound on later. But, I fought so regularly with my internal editor that I couldn't just get words on a page and leave them alone long enough to sieve through them. The blog, I thought, would be my excuse, my Place in This Writing World, to just put things down, without theme, without intention, without resolution...sort of like brainstorming for the world to see. I felt it'd make me both accountable and more...
"I'm not so sure that shrimps is correct."
...if you know me - and soon enough you will, I hope - you know that I'm a bit obsessed with language and pronunciation, etcetera. For instance, I flat-out refuse to drag the word comparative over four separate vowels and/or syllables depending on which part of the country you live in. Instead, I just say it shortly and sweetly, like this, comparative: emphasis on the first syllable, omitting the middle "a," and running the rest of it together under the "r" sound). It sounds more intelligent, I think. I am quite a strong advocate for doing all I can to...
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