Man Sentenced to Listen to Polka

My friend Rob gets a review: “But Davidson doesn’t shy from finding small triumphs in otherwise victory-less lives…”

Guy writes “P.S. You really are a spectacular writer, if I or no one else has pointed this out before, and while the website may be the way to go at present, there’s absolutely nothing like actually appearing in print, is there? Where’s your first book? Mine is nothing to crow about, but at least it’s there.”
Thanks, Guy. As my pal Lenny used to say (and probably still does), ‘He’s right, you know.’
I’ve been taken gently to task once every other day this week for not utilizing this blessed free time more effectively. (Thanks Sculptor Greg, Mark, Dan and Guy.)
So let’s get busy:How to write a novel in 100 days or less

I added something new to the writing area. It’s my graduate school application essay, and it’s about the last thing left in the vaults.

Ah, a pleasant, low-key evening with a pair of web pals. We discussed democracy, geekery, higher education, beer and stuff. It was good fun. Thanks, boys.

Sure, it’s an urban legend, but I laughed out loud at the mental picture it provoked. Woman Dies in Premature Rapture
(I found it at MetaFilter.)

Watching and Listening:

It’s a punk rock extended weekend!
Saturday at my house, we watched Bruce McDonald’s Hard Core Logo, a movie billed (rightfully, I think) as the ‘punk rock Spinal Tap‘. Today, I got a copy of Everybody Hates You, a retrospective CD by Cleveland ne’er-do-wells The Pagans.
Right now, I’m wondering why I ever bothered to learn that fourth chord. Hell, four chords?! That’s jazz!

MaryBeth came by today, with Jim (her recently betrothed), and we got a photo with them, me, Fran and the biggest sunflower you’ve ever seen.

Time to lay off the garlic-heavy dinner items.

What do a girlfriend from way back, electric trains and Patti Smith have in common?

They all just made appearances in my dream.

If I could remember any more, I’d certainly tell you.