Because I stupidly scheduled an orthodontist appointment for Kate on the same day her school is having something called NEAP testing — and you know how cool and laid-back educators are about standardized testing, especially in a soft real-estate market — I have to spend the morning on the phone, throwing myself at the mercy of secretaries who all run their lives more competently than I do.
(UPDATE: I’m wrong. It’s NAEP testing.)
Also, we’re expecting five to eight inches of snow today. Also, I have a deadline that’s now in the rear-view mirror. Also, I need to go to the library, and also, I need to do a rewrite/polish on a radio essay. Also, I’m getting my hair cut, although maybe not, depending on the orthodontist situation.
Fortunately, Neely Tucker showed up for work today. Read this, chuckle, and recall the good parts all day. My favorite:
Is there one among us who, at least once in this life, does not want to throw everything out the door and sprint to the Disco Ball of the Brain, where there are big white piles of dopamine, where a hot and sweaty Barry White is always on stage, thumping out “You’re My First! My Last! My Everything!” And there’s that new girl in class! Scantily clad! She’s on the floor, beckoning you! Yes, Bubba, you! Out you go, and she’s saying your name and her hand slips to the small of your back, and this is going to last FOREVER AND EVER!
Here it goes, a long time ago, Abelard and Heloise, two of history’s most famous lovers:
Abelard to Heloise: “So intense were the fires of lust which bound me to you that I set those wretched, obscene pleasures, which we blush even to name, above God as above myself.”
She to he: “Even during the celebration of the Mass, when our prayers should be purest, lewd visions of the pleasures we shared take . . . a hold on my unhappy soul.”
HONEY! BABY! SWEETIE! CALL ME!
Did we mention Abelard was castrated as a result of their affair? And Heloise went off to a convent for the rest of her life? That they named their child “Astrolabe”? What people! What passion! What the hell were they thinking?
Actually they weren’t, and neither are you, not really, when you fall passionately in love.
Word, bro. Later.