Posts
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Well, I have been doing things, but they're none of them anywhere close to being ready for public presentation. So . . . no news today.
Perhaps I shall spend the day working on my never-to-be-published children's book If You Give A Moose A Beer . . . ("He's going to want to have a chaser to go with it. Then he's going to want to go down to the tavern for another six-pack. When he comes out, he's going to have a big sack of money and the tappie is going to be shooting at him." And so on.)
A Certain Somebody
. . . has requested that his medical condition not be blogged. It's a futile gesture, but so be it. I am a respecter of people's wishes. So all I shall say here and now is that there appears to be no bad news.
And As Always
. . . the poem du jour continues. Most recently, Theodore Roethke's secrets cried alout.
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4 comments:
Michael,
What's funny is about a minute after I read what you said about blogging silence regarding H.W. and how futile it'd be, I saw this: http://community.livejournal.com/theinferior4/373313.html and then today this:http://community.livejournal.com/theinferior4/373644.html
Nevertheless, it's good to hear that Our National Treasure is doing well.
--Bill
Bill,
Yes, as you knew, that's exactly why I said it was futile. Nobody can keep us from caring about the Great Man. If he wanted otherwise, he shouldn't've written all those stories.
In defiance of all sense and sanity, however, I shall respect his wishes. Let him imagine he is the captain of his fate. If it makes him happy, well, why not?
M.
I'll see your shot for that moose and raise you a fifth...Ronnie
Ahhh, the stories I could tell about that moose. He was the only imaginary creature ever to be banned from our house by my then-young son.
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