The Queue
The Bloody Red Baron finally arrived! Those jerks at the library didn't call me, even though several weeks back I made a point of verifying that the telephone number they have on file is current (of course, my mobile number hasn't changed in the two and a half years since I got the blasted thing). So, because the book is on special loan from a library in Bad Axe - the G.D.L.'s copy having gone, as previously mentioned, walkabout - I've only got it for three weeks, not the usual four. And how long was it waiting for me at McFarlen? A week. I would have had a full four weeks if they'd called me upon The Bloody Red Baron's arrival as they said they would! Jerks. Turnabout is fair play, I'm going to keep the book as long as it takes me to read it.

Too bad, too, because I am in the middle of reading Captain Jacques-Yves Cousteau's contribution to Great Adventures with National Geographic. Sure, I could finish Cousteau's account first, but the clock is ticking on The Bloody Red Baron. And despite my boasting it is in my nature to want to return the book to McFarlen within the alloted trio of weeks, however unfairly that interval might have been decided. I defer to Leviathan in all his many forms unless stirred to rebellion by a specific cause. And Captain Cousteau and the Calypso will still be waiting for me after I finish viewing the Great War through the lens of Anno Dracula.

Also, I borrowed another book that should prove excellent research fodder for Project TRITON.

Operation ÖSTERREICH
Tuesday was even more of a fiasco than previously believed and I spent all of yesterday experiencing extreme tenderness in my stomach muscles. During Week 1, I experienced the soreness that accompanies exercise after a long period of sloth. I love that soreness, that hallmark of progress. But this was tenderness, not soreness. I ached when I moved in certain directions, and getting in and out of bed was a particular bother. I'm much improved today, but even so I have deferred Week 2, Day 2's sets of push ups until tomorrow at the earliest.

What is certain, though, is my intention to run tomorrow for the first time since before Christmas. Egad! I predict a preposterous level of exertion will be required to plod along at a snail's pace, but I've got to start (again) somewhere. And here I must point out to myself that I wouldn't have to repeat these initial phases ad nauseam if I'd just adhere to an exercise regimen for more than a few months at a go. But, because that kind of Monday morning quarterbacking isn't particularly helpful, let me also offer a genuinely useful reminder to myself: the more you work out, Mike, the more you want to work out. Persist and you just might wake the S.K.P. Machine, long absent yet alive even so, slumbering like Frederick Barbarossa.

Hoorah for Operation ÖSTERREICH!

The Rebel Black Dot Song of the Day
James Darren, "Come Fly With Me" from This One's From the Heart (T.L.A.M.)

Commentary: Given my profound love for and devotion to Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, the following is high praise indeed: James Darren, with his easy smile and dulcet tones, will always be Vic Fontaine to me.

"Come fly with me,
Let's fly, let's fly away.
If you can use
Some exotic booze
There's a bar in far Bombay.
Come fly with me,
Let's fly, let's fly away."