OK, I’ll admit it- the illustrations here are absolutely unrelated to anything in this post. My life is a non-sequitur.

For example, I had a group of students explain to me that the large and uncrowded art center at the school was supposed to be a library, but they found out after the fact that the weight of the books caused the building to shift downhill a few inches per year. I thought that, hmmm, this seems familiar.

I also got to dress up in PPE and rake a 2300 degree bed of molten glass. Good thing I’d been drinking.

Oh, and speaking of drinking, I’m about to drive 30 hours to Montana for Thanksgiving. See? Just random non sequitur stuff. Such is my life.

Also, life as we know it begins at birth, and we sometimes commemorate these days. And the 18th of November is no exception, where we commemorate the births of a guy who would wince any time someone would mention the French dessert, gateau; the grandfather of modern religious grift; the Fast Eddie of chess; a guy who, if he’d been any deeper in the closet, he’d have been in Narnia; a trombonist whose sound could get you laid; a deep thinker about business whose deep thought were actually pretty shallow; a woman who really should have had HR do a better job of vetting her employees; a guy who heard voices that no-one else could; a guy who always made you think- unfortunately, the thought was, “Why is this guy famous, rich, and respected?”; a guy who fucked Jane Fonda, then the rest of us; the reason pool tables in New Bedford smell like tuna; and the guy who inspired me to write Jewsday out of pure contempt.

There’s no connection with these Links.

 

Team Blue tries to ramp up the hysteria. Good, good.

 

This is putting one hell of a crimp in my love life.

 

At least two more years of comedy ahead of us. Good, good.

 

I didn’t even know he was still alive. What an amazing life and talent.

 

Courts have become parodies, working hard to destroy any respect for legal processes. Good, good.

 

Someone has been monitoring our thrice-weekly Glibs zooms.

 

I’ve surrendered to the Borg and have let Amazon do song mixes for me. I was very skeptical, but damn, their predictive algorithms are pretty awesome. Every once in a while, I hear a song and a sound that just freezes me, and if I’m hiking, I just stop and marvel. This is a live version of one that came on during one of my trips to Buffalo; it made the Old Man pull off the road and just sit and enjoy two or three times through. Cary Ann is the anti-Taylor Swift.