Pass It Forward...or Don't

Like me, you probably get lots of unwanted email all the time. What I really hate are the lists of jokes, usually not funny and almost always from Democrats, with titles like "Ten Ways You Know You're In Menopause" or "How to Tell If Your Man is an Idiot." I always delete those unread.

Then there are the chain letters, telling you to add your name and send it to ten people you know in the next five minutes or you will contract a horrible disease or suffer some misfortune. Bravely, I ignore those too.

But tonight I got one of those chain letters from a close friend I like and respect, asking me quite sincerely to send it to 12 other women I like, and do so in 15 minutes. There was stuff about fulfilling dreams and life being a journey or some such sentiment; to be honest I didn't read it closely, but it said to make a wish first, and I thought in the off chance magic is real, and despite not knowing 12 women I like, I did it because Diana asked me to--and also, I need all the help I can get, wish-fulfillment-wise.

To those who received it and were offended, I am sorry--just hit delete. But please don't send me an email telling me you didn't do it because you "don't do that." (I already got one of those.) I do not care and I do not need to know.

Anyway, you're the one whose wish won't come true.

The Grim Reaper Strikes Again

Today was a crappy day. I now know for sure that Freeport, where I live, is just another Disneyland but without any rides. For the first time since moving here I went shopping in town and saw that despite all the stores having different names, they are all selling the same thing, just like the Mickey Mouse stuff in the Magic Kingdom!

But what made the day crappy was that when I got home after many long hours in my art gallery, undistracted by customers, I discovered a dead chipmunk lying face up right next to our porch. He was so cute, and looked just like a cartoon character, stretched out with his little paws neatly folded across his chest. There were no signs of foul play, and since my cats had been inside all day I couldn't shout "J'accuse!" at either of them.

Had the little guy suffered a heart attack as he was running home to supper? Perhaps his family is wondering where he is even now, keeping his dinner warm, hours after my neighbor Bob helped me dispose of the body. (Okay, Bob did the disposing, I covered my eyes and held open the plastic bag.)

Goodbye Chip or Dale, I lift my glass to you.

Nos for News

No two ways about it, the media sucks these days. It used to give the news, period. Now it gives the salacious news.

For example, concerning the recent (horrid) death of Annie Le, a 24-year old Yale graduate, in New Haven, Connecticut. Her body, we learned from every newspaper and every TV announcer and every Internet story, was found stuffed inside a wall.

Now that word is fraught with negatives. What's the first thing you think of stuffing? A turkey. So to say that is to diminish her even further, as if her being dead is not bad enough!

Other options they might have used do exist, such as saying her body was:
1. placed behind a wall
2. hidden behind a wall
3. inserted behind a wall
4. left behind a wall
5. found behind a wall

But none of those are as sickening as her being "stuffed inside a wall."

Note to self: Cancel all subscriptions and throw out TV.

Happy 9/11

Today it rolled around again, like it does every year; September 11, a.k.a. "9/11." Through the magic of television we again saw the planes, the smoke, the falling bodies, the firemen. The survivors trotted out their stories. And still nothing has been built there, and everyone still says it's a shame.

What a holiday!