The fact my hit counter is twitching in epileptic ecstasies means my plans for global domination are proceeding apace. Excellent. And all this new traffic has nothing to do with John Scalzi mentioning yesterday’s Shatter column on his blog – nothing, nothing, nothing. This isn’t just fifteen minutes of blog fame. It isn’t, I tell you. Karen says that if stoking controversy is what it takes to drive blog traffic, she has a few ideas for future Point-Counterpoint columns from the two of us: What’s wrong with America today: Not enough shame. This is part of Karen’s plan for the Japanification of America. When someone does something wrong, he should be encouraged to go home and commit suicide – or, at the very least, never show his face in public again. Karen’s plans for expansion of the death penalty. Fry white collar criminals, sex offenders, corrupt politicians . . . oh, hell. Fry anyone Karen doesn’t like. A fourth branch of government: Internal Affairs. IA will be empowered to investigate all three conventional branches of government – and their own. Corruption will be treated with compassionate understanding (see above). Why I hate Christianity. Hey, she’s an atheist. What can I say.
Jake had a good day today – that makes two in a row. For newbies here, my nine-year-old has been plagued with chronic daily headaches for the last three months. After an MRI, CT, numerous blood tests and a lumbar puncture, we’re no closer to understanding this. So we’re doing what any good physician would do: we’re treating him with every drug we can think of that we haven’t tried yet.
The winning combo thus far seems to be melatonin and propranolol. Melatonin to get him back on a normal sleep schedule, propranolol on the off chance he’s having migraines.
Clear skies today, gentle wind, temperature in the high fifties. We went out and did the Del Norte County doubleheader: Smith River, then the beach. Jake wanted to see if we could find quicksand. There’s a branch of the South Fork off Walker Road where, on a particularly rainy winter day, we once found several patches of quicksand by the riverside. We’ve been back several times since then, but the conditions have never been right. I’m beginning to wonder about how rare that day must have been.
He did his usual: throwing flat rocks and watching them sink with nary a skip, building dams and tearing them down, terrorizing frogs. It seemed like only a week or two had passed since we’d been down this way, yet we haven’t done any of this since he became ill. Three months must seem like an eternity to a nine-year-old, but to me, it was yesterday.
Then, off to the beach, where we got thoroughly waterlogged. But that’s why we’re here in this land of No Borders (or Barnes & Noble): 180 degrees of ocean in front of us, wildflower-strewn mountainside behind us, crystal blue sky above. Still too early for blackberries, but Jake showed me a reddish-pink flower with nectar that tasted like honey. He picked his mother a bouquet on the way back up the hill. He’ll be a florist someday, or maybe a mechanical engineer. With any luck, he won’t have the damned headache.
More ephemera: Karen’s younger P. metallica morphed out male, so now she has a breeding pair. With any luck, I may have some pornographic tarantula stories to share with you in the days ahead. (Why ‘ephemera’? She’s mating tarantulas. Think about it.)