This year the Borg assimilated our Christmas tree and decked it with energy-efficient lights. Soon the tree will join “The Collective,” so let us admire its biological and technological distinctiveness one last time before it goes.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
Your lights are so cyborgy.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
Your lights are so cyborgy.
Your assimilation was a breeze
And you look so cool in LEDs.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
Your lights are so cyborgy.
It’s Christmas Eve already. Who knew time could move so fast?
Merry Christmas!
I had originally planned to call this blog by a different name, but the domain name I wanted was already taken. It wasn’t a surprise, but it was a letdown. I was feeling sort of blue, and I was thinking about animals because so many templates have pictures of critters, and an image of the blue-footed booby popped into my head.
I love the blue-footed booby. It is both comical and beautiful. It is clumsy on land but it flies with extraordinary grace. It is like most of us, awkward in some ways and gifted in others. And that’s why I chose the name Blue-Footed Musings.
Now that you know the story behind the name, I hope you will give a warm welcome to my mascot. Here he is!
He doesn’t have a name yet. Two of the names I’m considering are Zoof and Chicklet.
It’s Christmastime and that means constant bombardment with some of the most annoying songs ever written, like the one about the Italian Christmas donkey. That horrid little tune gets so thoroughly stuck in my head that I walk around the house singing bits of the lyrics and braying like an ass. It’s embarrassing. Whenever I manage to exorcise it from my brain, Faithful Reader brings it up again. Since he doesn’t get songs stuck in his head, he thinks it’s a safe way to amuse himself.
I must devise a suitable revenge.
It seems like most of my recent posts have been reading-related. I promise to write more often about other things next year. For now, I beg your patience as I dig deeper into my library and try to sort out more of the unworthy books.
Here are my opinions on four books from the children’s section of my library.
The Monsters of Morley Manor by Bruce Coville
Grade: B+
This book is action-packed and fun. It has monsters, aliens, body snatching, magic, ghosts, and even a love triangle. My only complaint is that it’s not great. I don’t think the author was aiming for great. He was going for pure entertainment value and in that he succeeded. The Monsters of Morley Manor is enjoyable but it’s not a keeper.
Rare Beasts by Charles Ogden
Grade: D
I bought Rare Beasts because of its cover. The cover art is grotesquely appealing and topped with an embedded hologram. The whole book has the look and feel of quality. I also love the characters of Edgar and Ellen, evil little twins whose minds are bent on mayhem. They have so much promise, but the story does not. I couldn’t finish it. People just don’t act the way the author makes them act. To sum it up: great look, great characters, great writing, bad story.
The Thief of Always by Clive Barker
Grade: A
The Thief of Always is a quick read and that’s fitting for a parable about the importance of time. As you can infer from the title, it’s about a thief who steals time. When he’s caught, he says something so simple but so powerful that I will remember it forever. This book is worth the time I spent on it and worth keeping to read again someday.
The Diamond in the Window by Jane Langton
Grade: None
I didn’t give this book a grade because I didn’t read more than half of it. Set in Concord, MA and written with reverence for Concord’s famous former residents—Emerson, Thoreau, and Alcott—The Diamond in the Window ought to be the kind of book I would love. The author attempted to impart some of Concord’s history, but I didn’t like the way she chose to do it, nor did I find the mystery compelling. After trying unsuccessfully to read this book twice, I think I’d better give it away and hope that it finds a new owner who will love it.
This is one of my favorite passages from Vonnegut’s Jailbird.
So I did sit down, and everywhere I looked I saw customers of every description being received with love. To the waitresses everybody was “honeybunch” and “darling” and “dear.” It was like an emergency ward after a great catastrophe. It did not matter what race or class the victims belonged to. They were all given the same miracle drug, which was coffee. The catastrophe in this case, of course, was that the sun had come up again.
We coffee addicts stick together. We may not always understand each other’s problems or fears or wishes, but we all understand the need for morning catastrophe-relief.
I finished reading Kurt Vonnegut’s Jailbird last night.
Grade: A
Jailbird is a tough read. It has a slow beginning and it requires some knowledge of American history, particularly the case of Sacco and Vanzetti. Everyone in Vonnegut’s generation would have known those names. And I suppose that teenagers paying attention in history class would know. Me, I recognized the names but could not say why. Fortunately, Vonnegut eventually provides the patient reader with sufficient information about the two laborers whose executions were so controversial.
The other holes in my knowledge of history are just as easily remedied. That’s what encyclopedias are for. But it’s impossible to have the same perspective as one who lived through the 50 years of changing public opinion between 1927 (the year Sacco and Vanzetti were executed) and 1977 (the year in which the main character is released from jail after serving time for a part in Watergate). Lacking that perspective, I’m not sure what I was supposed to get out of this book, but as I sit here thinking of what to say, it strikes me that one way to read it is as a chronicle of changing opinion.
If you can make it through all the seriousness and historical references, the reward is a more typical Vonnegut story with zany characters swept up by strange events. The main character is a Harvard-educated man whose foolish idealism is always getting him in trouble. Along the way, he meets up with various interesting people, including a bag lady with an amazing secret.
Ultimately, I enjoyed Jailbird. Because it demanded more from me and took longer to read, some of its characters and events were more firmly impressed on my memory than is usual. I felt the urge to study it in the old English-major way and that does not happen often, so I gave it an “A.”
That’s nine down and five to go. Next up is Deadeye Dick, but having finally caught up in the marathon, I am going to take a few weeks off and read something else. I will run the remainder of the marathon next year.
My future father-in-law came over a couple of weeks ago to help move our new sofa into the house. I was sitting at my desk when Faithful Reader brought him through my office. Faithful Reader explained that I was working and his father said, “You mean she’s making money right now?” We nodded and his face lit up with delight.
I remember that moment for a few reasons. First, because I dislike working at home and need to be reminded periodically that it’s a wonderful thing. Take last night for example. Deep snow looks lovely from the window of a snug little office. It is not nearly so nice when you’re stuck on the highway for hours, as so many were last night. I am lucky that I don’t have a daily commute to worry about.
Second, because the man has a remarkable smile. You have to love life in order to be able to smile like that. I can’t claim to know him very well, but it seems to me that he embraces life wholeheartedly. I admire that.
And last, because I wonder sometimes if he thinks that I don’t like him. He is outgoing. I am shy. We haven’t yet found our common ground. My Christmas wish is to find that common ground and to get to know him, and the rest of my future in-laws, better this coming year.
Somewhere along the way I finished reading Murder with Peacocks but forgot to mention it. Oops. Well, here goes.
Murder with Peacocks by Donna Andrews
Grade: B
This is another Meg Langslow mystery (the first, actually) and it is likable, just like the other two I already read. This time, Meg is the maid of honor and wedding planner for three brides: her mother, her future sister-in-law, and her best friend. When an obnoxious party guest is found murdered, it’s up to Meg to find the murderer while keeping all of the weddings on track.
Had I read this first, I might have liked it best, but I am now quite tired of the author’s formula. I am also unhappy with the way that the characters behave sometimes. Meg breaks into houses without breaking a sweat, and when her future boyfriend catches her in the act, he accepts it with amazing nonchalance. Hey! It’s called lawbreaking and you can go to jail for it. At the very least, treat it as an unusual occurrence!
Murder with Peacocks still gets a B for being easy, enjoyable reading, but it’s the last book from this series for me.
Bread sausage.
Yum.
There are things inside
That are not bread.
Chewy things, tough things
That are not bread.
Um.
I eat it anyway.
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