My 103rd entry!

Well, I'd planned on marking my centenary entry to this blog. I counted the blog entries a couple weeks ago and saw that I was getting close so I made a mental note to do something about it. Unfortunately, my 100th entry was three entries ago. ~sigh~ Okay, so this is my 103rd entry. That's a prime number (there's a smidgen of coolness) and it's the 4th of July (there's a bit more). I'm searching for other things that are cool and/or significant about this particular entry and I can't think of any.

I'm really having a nice day, even though nothing much is happening: the writing's going better and I'm getting a grip on a project that's been pesty. Susan is off at a barbecue and then probably going off to see fireworks with a bunch of friends, so it's just me and the cats and drinking pots of tea and listening in the background to the Science Fiction channel's weekend-long "Twilight Zone" marathon, which counts as Really Good TV in my book.

It all could be an awful lot worse, for which many thanks.

My 103rd entry!

Okay, I finally figured something out about having kids

I've been feeling a little sorry for myself lately. I'm really happy with the Babe and I've got plenty of work at the moment--probably too much when you stir in things like the new house and the STC Board of Directors and all--and the kitties are all healthy even if they're getting old, it's just that been a lot of little things, really: annoyance that I should've gotten divorced in 1986 rather than 1995 (and saved myself an incredible amount of money), losing touch with wonderful people who I would've liked to bring forward into my life, having friends and cats die, and the general malaise brought about by watching the theo-cons turn America into Amurrka and destroy the world in the process. A lot of this is doubtless the feeling of 50 coming on hard and fast and thinking about the continuing risks to my health as a diabetic, but I do think about all the things I might still like to do and how much more I could accomplish if I didn't have to sleep (and how I'd still never manage everything I wanted to do). I think there's also a sense of disappointment that I actually must sleep a reasonable amount these days. I recall in my heyday 15-20 years ago how I'd be able to work two fulltime gigs at once and work vast quantities of hours and generate huge piles of money that somehow would always get spent. Damn.

What I just realized this evening out of all of this moping around is that this is what kids are for. Susan came home and we were talking and I was cooking potatoes O'Brien and bacon and eggs for us and I realized that when people talk about kids being their future and so on, it's knowing that there are children to try the things that I didn't have time for or couldn't get to that gives one a great deal of comfort. Yes, they have their own lives and they'll do whatever they're interested in pursuing, but it's an odd connectedness into the future that makes me feel good.

I don't think that this is going to come as any news to anyone who actually has children already, but it's quite a surprise to me. It's certainly gotten me out of my funk and given me a sense of satisfaction that there will be things taken care of after I'm gone. I'm not sorry that I didn't have kids of my own--though I would really have liked to see what they'd have been like, I have to say--but I am incredibly thankful that I have great stepkids now so I can experience first-hand the true joys of parenting.

Okay, I finally figured something out about having kids

Statler and Waldorf are back again!

One of my best memories of my mid-20s was watching "The Muppet Show" with my then-gf. I always identified with Kermit, although when I let my beard go too bushy without trimming it, I looked uncommonly like Animal, and the shows were, of course, hilarious. I can still remember the Swedish Chef making "Chocolate Moose" and Kermit having a fit at him about it. The episode with Mark Hamill as the guest star was probably the best for great bits:

Angus McGonigle (The Gargling Argyle Gargoyle), whose talent was "I garrrrgle Gerrrshwin!" (Kermit: "You do?" Angus: "Gahrrrrgeously!")

A shepherd and a chorus of his sheep singing "Rama Lama Ding Dong"

The Swedish Chef about to boil a lobster, only to have the lobster rescued at the minute by a half-dozen shrimp (with bandito hats, bandoleros, and pistols that they kept firing little tracer-like rounds into the air with)

Tony Randall trying to recite The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God despite numerious interruptions was also a memorable event, though perhaps more for my fondness of that poem from episodes of "The Curse of the Flying Wombat," a recurring serial that was part of "I'm Sorry, I'll Read That Again" (or "ISIRTA" for manic fans) than for anything else. The Green Eye of the Little Yellow God is not a very good poem on its own merits, but it does lend itself handily to parody and overly melodramatic readings.

It didn't get much better than that on TV in the late 70s, nor did it need to. This was great, wonderfully funny stuff {deep happy sigh of nostalgia}. Jim Henson's premature death was a great sadness to me, knowing that there'd never be quite the same level of humor.

Happily, part of the thrill of the Muppet Show is available once again, and with a contemporary flare. Statler and Waldorf, the old guys in the balcony, are doing movie reviews now. (Well, a job's a job....) You can check out their latest comments at "From the Balcony," their web location at Movies.com.

Sunday nights will be a little more fun now that part of the Muppet Show is back.

Statler and Waldorf are back again!