Well, dear readers, every time there is a holiday weekend I get discombobulated. Not discomjimulated, mind you, nor even discombillulated, no, I get discombobulated and that’s all there is to it. You see, yesterday seemed like today, and today seems like Friday and Monday seemed like Sunday, so I just don’t know where the hell I am, day-wise. The days have become an olio, a stew, a melange, a hodge-podge, a podge-hodge, a gumbo, a porridge, and I find it all very confusing. I got out of bed this morning and it felt like Friday. Why “it” felt like Friday I have no idea, why don’t you just ask “it” why it felt like Friday – I don’t keep tabs on “it”, I don’t answer for “it”, “it” can speak for itself as far as I am concerned. What the hell am I talking about? I have no idea, but that’s what happens when you think it’s Friday on a Wednesday.
A man was arrested for trying to steal money out of someone’s pockets. He was caught red-handed. But the funny thing was that he was only trying to steal the coins in the pocket, he wasn’t stealing the paper money. When asked why he was only trying to steal the coins, he said, “I thought the change would do me good”. I first heard that joke when I was ten. I don’t know why, but it just came back to me and I thought I would share it with you. I believe I saw it in a Myron Cohen book of jokes which was given to me when I was a mere sprig of a twig of a youth. You see, this is the sort of thing that happens when that Wednesday/Friday thing occurs.
Well, I just had a phone call that lasted fifteen minutes, and I have lost the momentum I’d been building as I was writing these here notes. I have no more momentum and I must now build momentum from scratch. What scratch has to do with building momentum I have no idea. Perhaps if we all click on the Unseemly Button below we’ll find out what scratch has to do with building momentum.
Nothing. That’s what scratch has to do with builiding momentum on this Wednesday-cum-Friday. After all that waxy buildup yesterday, regarding the DVD of The Young Girls of Rochefort, the damn thing didn’t make it to any stores, at least that I could find. Someone on the internet did say he’d gotten it, but he’s in Canada and I see no reason why I should have to fly to Canada to get the damn DVD. The good news is, he said it was enhanced for widescreen tvs. The bad news is, I want it now and I cannot have it now because no damn stores have it, except in Canada. Instead, I watched a peculiar motion picture from 1970 called Citta Violenta (Violent City), with Charles Bronson and Telly Savalas. It’s one of those Italian crime mellers, about a man who is betrayed by just about everybody and his revenge on the betrayers. It’s not very good, but I really like the music by Mr. Ennio Morricone.
Has anyone noticed that it’s Wednesday? I only ask because it feels like Friday. I wonder if Friday will feel like Wednesday. And where does that leave Thursday? It is very windy here in Southern California. Wasn’t that a good segue?
These notes are starting to sound Pinteresque to me.
There is more in the silences than in the notes.
Perhaps if I took a leaf from Mr. Pinter’s book (play), Betrayal, I could write these here notes starting at the end and going backwards to the beginning. Yes, I could do that, but what does taking a leaf from Mr. Pinter’s book (play) have to do with anything. More importantly, why does Mr. Pinter keep a leaf in his book (play)? Next he’ll keep an entire shrub in his book (play), because Mr. Pinter simply cannot stop, greenery-wise.
I believe the silences in these here notes speak volumes. However, silence has no volume, so how can it speak volumes? There is meaning in the pauses. There is subtext under the text. There’s a submarine under the marine. “I thought the change would do me good”. I wonder if I still have that Myron Cohen book of jokes?
Obtuse. Oblique. Strange. That’s what Wednesday/Friday’s notes have become.
I think I shall stop while I’m ahead. Would I stop if I were afoot? Would I stop if I were aknee? No, I shall stop only if I’m ahead. In the pauses there is silence and in silence there is meaning and in meaning there is subtext and in subtext there is a marine.
You see, when it’s Wednesday but it feels like Friday it discombobulates everything, and everything becomes an olio, a stew, a melange. Perhaps Thursday will feel like Thursday and then these notes can be more lucid. We need lucid notes. Notes which are, in other words, lucid. Oh, that’s the same word. Tomorrow I shall have another treatise on one of my favorite musicals and tomorrow perhaps I’ll even have another song by Hinky Meltz and Ernest Ernest. Tomorrow we shall have no silences or pauses or subtext or submarines. Tomorrow will be full speed ahead, or, at the very least, full speed ahand. Tomorrow I will have momentum and I’ll be building that momentum from scratch. Don’t forget to post your very own Pinteresque thoughts in the Unseemly Comment Box below.