Twisting By the Pool


ArchReflectionsNo1, originally uploaded by carolWorldLeader.

So, I believe in the past I might have mentioned that one of my all time favorite books is The Lathe of Heaven by Ursula LeGuin. It’s about this guy, George, who has dreams that actually come true-dreams that alter reality. (There’s more on the amazon link for the curious.)

My first “impossible. but I did it anyway” celestial twist-a-roo came last week sometime, after I promised some folks that I would gather a collection of links to my favorite photographers’ websites. I included all the usual suspects but, in my quest for quickly delivering the cache (which will, some day, I promise, be posted here as well) I neglected to mention my favorite photographer as of late, Mr. Michael Kenna. Later, when I went to his website, in an attempt at backpedaling and including the link, I happened to notice that his latest body of work is called (I swear, I’m not making this up,) ahem, “Impossible to forget.” (Guess not, huh? Ooops.) The heavens writhe yet again as I lay shaking my head in my hands.

In my next bizarre turn of events, a certain possessed TiVo has now taken to recording ONLY Nicolas Cage movies. It’s not merely recording all of them, every Nicolas Cage movie, it would appear, that’s ever been made, no, it’s stopped recording Law and Order re-runs, crafting programs, occassional CSI episodes, Charles Manson biopics (well, that’s good news, I suppose) anything else that it had once “booped” into it’s happy little, heretofore “Nicolas Cage-less” memory banks is now history.

In the “I bet the frogs feel safer already” department, I’ve decided that, since I was never very athletic, and can’t even appear to beat my TiVo unit at thumb wrestling, I’m going to get all “couch potatoey” on you and just let TiVo accumulate a grand pile of crap (said with apologies to the previously perpetually unbooped and now, apparently ubiquitous, Mr. Cage.) At some point, I’ll post of list of what it’s “booped up,” and I’ll seek guidance from my, ahem, “loyal” readers (all 3 of you. *Wave*) as to which “booping” movie I should watch next (sorry, Steve, but, yes, this means that you’ll have to vote. *Again.*) It’s true, my friends, I’ve admitted defeat and am giving in to the evils of the possessed TiVo unit. It’s time to retire my broomstick, stash the cauldron until Halloween, and just go with TiVo’s silly little suggestions (because, well, I don’t really have a choice now, do I?)

[Hey, maybe TiVo’s actually recorded a TV program in which somebody *doesn’t* get killed? There’s hope, right? (Nevermind, don’t answer that.)]

If I were poor old George, I’d dream about hillsides and flying over snow capped mountains. I’d dream of sailing deep waters, of swimming with dolphins, of catching waves and hanging 10 on a gnarly surfboard off the coast of South Africa. I’d dream of many things, my friends, and I’d especially dream up a TiVo unit that recorded every damned episode of Law and Order, without commericals, and nothing else. I’d have many happy dreams and run off to make “unforgettable” memories with a dreamy cabana boy on my own memorable beach. I’d “boop” you all out of my dreams (well, unless you happened to look a lot like a cabana boy) and “boop” myself onto some deserted island where nothing but Law and Order played all day, every day, on giant, dreamy plasma TV’s suspended poolside for my viewing pleasure. (That and I’d dream up some of those tropical drinks, with those pretty little umbrellas in them, for me to slurp down because, well, even in my dreams, I get thirsty every once in a while.)

If I could remember my dreams, I’m sure I could tell you that I dream of many things, and that some of them involve make making some fond, unforgettable memories with a cabana boy on a deserted beach somewhere (and a TiVo that actually listens to me.) Heck, I’d even dream up a nice, memorable URL (with photos!) to prove it. (Now, if only I can get the heavens to spin my way.)

And, yes, if you insist, I’d even take my tropical drink “with a twist,” in homage to that poor sap, George, who, like the rest of us, lives under churning heavens that seem to spin on a dime.

Until next twist…

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