So...here's my first (and maybe my last) group of Sunday Shorts:
- Is it as hard for you to follow a Zadie Smith novel as it is for me? I'm about 80 pages in her novel NW right now, and I'm finally able to read whole pages without having to re-read paragraphs over again because I have no idea what the woman is talking about. As many of you know, Smith is one of those "creative" stylists. No quotation marks for Zadie...just smaller print to indicate conversation is taking place. Now try to figure how who is speaking for each line. Simply put, that is not as easy as you might think it would be. Anyway, I'm almost through the first section of the book - and I'm hoping she doesn't mess around with me by switching styles with each section.
- I managed to cull another 30 books from my shelves and closets this afternoon. That brings my culled total up to about 80 books since I decided it was time to get rid of some books before my wife volunteered to do the job herself. I hope they all find good homes and are happier than they were here sitting inside dark closets for years at a time.
- I saw one of those cheesy little sayings this weekend that went something like, "The key to happiness is avoiding all idiots." Well, I failed miserably at doing that today, and my unhappiness level has been pretty high since before noon today because one of the biggest and most proficient idiots I have ever known decided to start another squabble with me. I like the way Mark Twain put it in his autobiography when he said that some people are just "assfull." You are my hero, Mr. Twain...but you already know that.
- The Astros toyed with my emotions for over four hours this afternoon, but the final score of the game did get me out of being in such a deep funk about that "assfull" nuisance I had to deal with, so I forgive them. First we grab a 4-0 lead and coast right up to the last two innings - during which we fall apart and let the Rangers tie the score at 4-4. Then Astros right fielder George Springer makes one of the most spectacular catches I have seen in over 50 years of watching baseball games by extending his glove over the outfield fence to catch what would have otherwise been a walk-off grand slam home run for the Rangers. It took another nail-biting four innings, but the good guys finally prevailed 6-4. And suddenly, I was smiling.
So, for the moment, life is a little better. I don't have to deal with that assfull hypocrite again for another few days; with a 3-3 record, my local baseball team is doing OK to start the 2015 season; and I have room for 80 new books. (But don't tell my wife that last bit.)