MY BUCKET LIST

1. Finally rent and watch 'THE BUCKET LIST'.

2.









UPDATE: The previous owner of this blog passed away during the writing of this post.

STEPHEN HARPER AND THE BODY OF CHRIST

At first I thought: hey, maybe Harper's got a gluten allergy. Then I figured he was maybe concerned about the priest's hand hygiene or something. But then it came to me....

I think Harper wanted to eat 'the body of Christ' on his own time. It's an evangelical thing. He straps on his Speedo, dances with a rattlesnake, speaks in tongues, downs the wafer and tops off the proceedings by guzzling a nice Chianti. Makes sense.

But then again, maybe Harpo's got one of those new suits with a built-in 'wafer pocket'. That would explain the bulge.

Or perhaps this is a regular ritual. It might unfold something like this: Harper goes to several churches, takes communion, pockets the wafers and spends Sunday afternoons feeding the homeless.

He's that kind of guy.

Llewellen: Wafers and beer for the congregation.

Feeling that Michael Jackson's passing had consumed way more airtime than was strictly necessary, I had no intention of planting my ass on the couch for two and a half hours to watch a celebrity-driven memorial service. But I turned it on. And I watched the whole thing. I'm glad now that I did.

I thought the service was both genuine and moving. (And I include the little girl's short tribute to her father under both of those categories.)

I thought Maya Angelou's poem was wonderful. Ditto for the musical tributes, especially those by Jennifer Hudson and Jermaine Jackson. Poignant stuff.

Yeah. I was touched by everyone's remarks. I laughed and (almost) cried. So call me a pussy.

And wow... that man had talent. Probably the most surprising thing to me was that it took a memorial service of this calibre to convince me that Michael Jackson really was a supremely gifted artist. (In an earlier post, I mentioned that I was not much of a fan.) I think I missed out on something important over the years.

I just hope to hell the kids get to have a normal life -- whatever that means -- being the kids of an icon.

RIP.

And now, back to Larry King.

BUSY, BUSY

I think I just caught a glimpse of what retirement's gonna look like.

I got up and took the dog for a walk. I made some bacon and coffee. I read a newspaper. Then I fucked around with a new short story. I barbecued, watered the flowers and the tomatoes, walked the dog again, grabbed a beer and fired up the computer. I'll be in bed soon.

Oh yeah: and I haven't shaved in eight days. (In another week, I could probably go undercover for CSIS or the CIA in the Middle East. But then, Harpo or Barry will have to walk my dog.)

Hell, I'm not afraid of retirement.

The possibilities are endless. (Or will the days just seem so?)

THE PAST IS A LOUSY PLACE TO HANG OUT IN

Some of my friends have a Face Book account. (And most of them are in their 60's.)

Is this sad or laughable?

I have a Lunch Counter. But I'm anonymous. Is this pathetic or devious?

Honestly, the last place I want to be is in front of the computer chatting up high school acquaintances. (Hey... I forgot you on purpose. Why the fuck would I want to renew something that had no legs to begin with?) Besides, it would just mean I'd likely have to attend more fucking funerals... and I've had a goddamned belly full of them.

Not a single one of my friends or work colleagues knows about The Lunch Counter. This is a private eatery, patronized (on occasion) by a few people I don't know from Adam. And that's the way, uh-huh uh-huh, I like it.

If I ever feel the need to reconnect with my ancient past, my wife (under strict orders) has the go-ahead to kill me.


P.S. Hey Janice... I hope you don't still hate me for dumping you in Grade 13, eh? I mean, the pain would be too much to bear.

IN MEMORIAM: MOLLIE SUGDEN

Oh, dear lady, the fun you gave us.

So sorry to hear you've passed.

Thank you for this, and all the other laughs.

Mrs. Slocombe, you were a gem.

Futbol

The Confederations Cup has been an interesting affair. It certainly highlighted a couple of problems Italy needs to sort out. Nice to see the back of the Spaniards as well. Har.

Glad that the U.S. is in the final. Lucky or underrated? I think it's the latter. Still, their opponent is Brazil. As in Brazil.

Prediction: Brazil 3 U.S. 1

But... Go USA!


In a completely unrelated story, I'll be buggering off for a few days. Gotta do some swimming. And sleeping. And drinking.

Later.