Aimless Blather

In Uncategorized on July 27, 2011 at 12:58 am


What’s happening, boys, girls, tea-baggers, dirt-baggers, Rotarians, sons of guns, mothers of muscle, masters of the universe, lords and ladies of the domain and other assorted minions of the twilight realms of living? There is not much happening in this precinct of the planet. I survived the PET scan last week, though must confess I am acquiring a taste for radioactive dye. If it keeps developing, I foresee a miserable future preying on hapless victims leaving jobs at nuclear power facilities and hospital radiology departments. The addiction might leave me homeless, lying in the gutter, licking the luminescent dials of cheap watches. Might there be an HBO series in the offing?


As for the results of the scan, the doc says things actually look a little better than they did two months ago. In my case, unlike on Seinfeld, “shrinkage’ is a good thing. It’s all very mysterious. The doc speculates that maybe I “do better” when the medicos aren’t messing with me. Consequently, further treatments are still under discussion. Damned if I don’t feel like the economy, with Boehner and Obama as my physicians.


If anyone is trying to email us, let me warn that we are under siege. We received an email from Chapel Hill this morning inviting parents of the Carolina class of 2015 (keep your fingers crossed) to register on-line for parents’ weekend in October. The problem is that replies to the mailing are automatically sent to everybody on the mailing list, meaning we have been socked with the digital equivalent of a blizzard. I’ve gotten over 150 emails of complaint so far. Frankly, the crack-brain responsible for this snarly mess should stand up, assume responsibility, announce party affiliation and run for congress. If elected, he or she could help us get back to first principles and the type of governance we fondly remember from the good old days back when efficiency and competence was the last thing we expected from our leaders.


I have been trying, per advice from the Smiler, to come up with a song to go along with “Tequila Mockingbird.” For some reason, I’ve hit singer-song-writer’s block in a big way. The best I have managed so far is:


Tequila Mockingbird –

It’s not a sin, it’s just a bar….


Even I recognize that this is godawful, as bad as anything that has ever seeped from my healthy or diseased brain. My fourth grade poetry book contains stuff (“a tree is a ladder to heaven”) that reads like “Paradise Lost” or “The Shooting of Dan Magrew” compared to this drivel. If anybody wants to take a stab at it, please feel free.


  1. Beno,
    I have the answer to your sudden craving for radioactive dye. Lynchburg is the North American headquarters for two nuclear power design companies. I have spoken with several of my friends who are upper level engineers there and they are confident they can supply all the radioactive nutrients you desire.(Note: To any national security types monitoring internet chatter, the preceeding is just a joke!)
    You are off to a good start with the lyrics to Tequila Mockingbird. I am convinced there is some lyrical opportunity in the fact that the last name of main character of the book from which the title is drawn is “Finch”. At least that would rhyme with more words that Atticus. I am headed to Virginia Beach Sunday for a judicial conference and will seek further inspiration in the sand and surf. Keep the faith.

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