Sunday, May 22, 2011

The Explorers Club
№ CCXXXVI - The eerily parallel deaths—thirty-six years of age, on the 26th day of the month—of Antonio Ascari (1888-1925) & Alberto Ascari (1918-1955), father & son, & grand prix champions both.





Antonio Ascari is the smiling chap next to the moustachioed man, Alberto Ascari is the child.





Project PANDORA
Yesterday, out of the blue, The O.W.L. sent me a text message. Recall The O.W.L.? Never fear, the Wayback Machine will steer you aright. (Of especial interest with this Wayback Machine hyperlink is the embedded Wayback Machine hyperlinks, allowing the curious to go far down the Wayback Machine rabbit hole.) The O.W.L.: The Other Woman… & Liquor because I am too (sic) "antimidating" for her unless she's been bolstered by some liquid courage. ("Liquid Courage" is the name under which her mobile number is stored in my mobile's directory.) I cannot say with any precision how many sheets to the wind The O.W.L. was, but she identified her location as a beer exposition in Frankenmuth. She thought she'd seen me at the beer expo & wished to buy me an adult beverage; I was safely in Grand Blanc, having spent the afternoon mowing the bog that was once my parents' backyard. She thought I'd quite like the beer expo & typed that she'd "be happy to come with [me] next year!" We agreed in principle to rendezvous for some libations sooner than next May, but given her penchant for evasion, obfuscation, & disappearance I'll not be holding my breath, & I'd advise the same for all interested parties.

Given that penchant for evasion, obfuscation, & disappearance, why would I agree, even in only vague principle, to rendezvous with her? Nothing more complicated than the predator's preference for the relative ease of the slowest & weakest prey items. I have no romantic interest in The O.W.L.—{a} I do not know her well at all. {b} What little I can glean from her behavior indicates a complete insufficiency as girlfriend material.—, but by the same token I've no objection to some kissing & a little light petting. The O.W.L. has demonstrated an inclination toward this behavior with just a moderate alcoholic nudge. Have no fear that I've gone over to the dark side, cats & kittens, I'm proposing nothing more untoward than making out with her. Everything above board, else I must answer to my highly self-critical Catholic conscience. I've ambition to become neither a cad nor a rake.

The aforementioned penchant means there is little chance of any of this coming to pass. I had not heard from her in nearly a year & fully expect not to hear from her for another such interval. But there is a slight chance & the dictates of PANDORA require me to pursue every opportunity, even one so heavily weighted toward lust (timid, abashed lust) instead of love.

The Rebel Black Dot Songs of the Day
Haberdashery, "The Narwhal Suite" via iTunes (T.L.A.M.)

Commentary: We stand on the eve of the eleventh Narwhal Day, dear readers. Summon your sympathy & prepare to make merry.

Samstag, 21 Mai
The Hold Steady, "Chill Out Tent" from Boys and Girls in America (T.L.A.M.)

Commentary: A commentary on the manner in which people allow themselves to behave once they have "lost control" through substance abuse. I have no idea if The O.W.L. was drunk when she text messaged me yesterday, but she was at a beer expo & her code name is not The O.W.L. for nothing.

"And I never saw that girl again."


Freitag, 20 Mai
Tommy James & The Shondells, "Crimson and Clover" via iTunes (T.L.A.M.)

Commentary: When I was a lad, my parents controlled the radio & my parents listened to "oldies." This does not mean that I have an encyclopædic knowledge of oldies; music was always "background noise" to my parents, not an entertainment in its own right. Partially as a result of this, though I am not trying to place the blame for any errors on anyone but myself, I hold a few incorrect "folk beliefs" about those oldies. For example, I know that "Crimson and Clover" was by Tommy James & The Shondells, but there is a part of my brain that cites "Crimson and Clover" as the cornerstone of my puzzling yet enduring affection for The Association. This part of my brain refuses to take delivery of the memorandum informing it that "Crimson and Clover" isn't by The Association & has been known to murder messengers & mount their heads on pikes before the gates of its keep as a warning to send no further messages. Such are the twisty paths of memory & recollection.

2 comments:

Dr. Hee Haw said...

I have been warned, and I shall never stimulate that part of your brain.

By the way, you are not alone in enjoying the laid-back '60s pop of The Association.

twg said...

I have been exchanging texts/emails with a fellow that I met back in January. We've been out three times, all about a month apart, and now not since March. Still, he persists in texting and emailing; I return them mostly out of morbid curiosity at this point. This one doesn't have the excuse of being young; we're the same age. Who knows, with some people.

That said, I'm guilty of occasional intoxitexting with people I haven't seen in some time, but these days it's pretty rare -- my text energy goes into the film student out in LA since that's safe and won't end in douche chills.