It’s going to be spring soon, and I know this because our driveway has melted and sent a flood of sand and gritty dirt cascading down to form a pool at the curb, where our caretaker has gallantly placed the spare satellite receiver from our basement and the garbage men have politely declined to accept it every day.
There are so many layers of life that emerge when snow melts. Odd articles of clothing and plastic wrappers pepper the gray slushy highway. And I think, how in the heck do you lose your shoe in a Minnesota winter? There are a few possibilities: it fell off your foot, or maybe sailed out the car window when you rolled it down to flick a cigarette, or maybe it fell out of your gym bag as you trudged along?
And then I think, why in the heck are you walking along the highway in the first place?
Minnesota is full of things I don’t understand. But it is sunny today:
And I just finished reading The End of Vandalism, which is a very funny book with a plot that takes its time. So life is good.
Though I continue to neglect this blog, always I think of you, dear reader, and wonder how you are.
What is up?
1. The Oscars.
I was annoyed to watch The Social Network win for best adapted screenplay. That movie is, in my very correct opinion, an excellent example of how modern cinema is failing in the narrative-construction department. There was no real drama or conflict; the movement of the entire story was forced; the dialogue was so artificial and the performances so stiff that I performed my requisite Groaning and Moaning and Bitching all through the film, yet waved away any annoyed offers of turning the damn thing off and watching Jersey Shore instead. (I like to make a scene).
It’s cold here, still. I think it will never end.
3. The baby.
Is all grown up, a year old.