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But Seriously Folks/Some SERIOUS odds and ends

OK, if I read one more barnyard joke, I’m going to hurl. Actually, I think that they are pretty funny.

I ate some spicy tofu for lunch today. Not my usual fare, but it was rather spicy, which is good for my sinuses. Strange thing about my head, if I go to the Doctor’s office, they give me a lot of drugs, tell me to “get plenty of rest, drink plenty of fluids, blah, blah” and my sinus situation doesn’t change. If, on the other hand, I eat something particularly spicy, my sinus situation virtually disappears and I’m left able to breathe. Ah, the joys of fresh clean air. Oxygen is so under-rated these days, espcially with extasy and smack running around.

Speaking of “breathing” this is a word I simply cannot spell. Breath? Breathe? I get too confused. For some reason, I just have a mental block and cannot remember which is which. As the great philosopher Calvin (from Calvin and Hobbs) once said, “any noun can be verbed but it sure weirds the language.” What’s true for gerunds also holds for pluperfect tense, I suppose. And there’s just not accounting for spelling. Yeah, yeah, I know what you’re thinking, “quit getting all philosophical on us, go back to talking about sex, and pass the tofu.” (Well, I got yer tofu right here, buddy.)

Have you heard The Mavricks re-make of the old Hollies song, “Air that I Breathe?” (Assuming I’m spelling that correctly, which is a rather large assumption.) It’s great. I love The Mavricks. Seem to be one of my favorite bands as of late. Them and Los Lonely Boys, who are local, but gaining national attention, most notably for opening up for Willie Nelson. Yes, I have to admit too that I rather like Clay Aiken. He’s got a great singing voice, even though I don’t particularly care for his choice of song. The talent is there, and that’s what counts. I also have to run out and get the new Norah Jones album. Love her stuff. She’s so relaxing, and I just love her compositional style, but then I’ve always been a sucker for smooth jazz. Although, I do exhibit a strong preference for sax and the smooth jazz, I could listen to her all day long and not grow tired. I can always go for really nice piano playing. It’s kind of like pictures of flowers. Everybody takes them, everybody says they hate them, and everybody hangs them above their couch. There’s just no escaping “the pretty” in the world. (Unless, of course, you are an ostrich, but that’s a blog for a different day.)

Here’s something I bet you didn’t know about me (or maybe you did): While I don’t have pretty pictures of flowers hanging above my couch, I do have them in my hallway and bathroom. I’ve got nothing hanging above my couch. Not “nothing special,” I do mean absolutely nothing. It’s bare wall. Go figure. I probably won’t hang flowers there, rather I’m leaning towards some kind of a wall shelf to hold CDs but you never know. All that and I’m dying to do some giant abstract poppy paintings, once I get my studio setup. Actually, I’m dying to get my studio setup so I can paint again.

Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in “Carol’s Little World” signing off.

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