About Me

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Las Vegas, Nevada, United States
"No, really!"

My Favorite Bit of Paper Cup Philosophy

The Way I See It #76

The irony of commitment is that it's deeply liberating - in work, in play, in love. The act frees you from the tyranny of your internal critic, from the fear that likes to dress itself up and parade around as rational hesitation. To commit is to remove your head as the barrier to your life.

Friday, January 8, 2010

The Jesus and I Told You So!

I commute precisely 5 miles between the doors of work and home. I do it in about 12 minutes, depending upon the time of day and the mood of the traffic signal gods. I watch the home dudes on GPS all day, every day as they traverse the valley. They sit at some intersections for up to 6 minutes waiting for all the lights to change, so one pays tribute to the traffic signal gods in Las Vegas. Although this seems a short amount of time spent in the car, I sometimes see more than I want to in the mean streets. And sometimes I have more fun in 12 minutes in that unremarkable, sensible little car than the law allows.

I'd barely buckled the seat belt when the BlackBerry announced incoming e-mail. I am generally against driving while intexticated, but one does come to the damnable red lights . . . . I thought I knew who'd be e-mailing me, but I got a surprise ~ Friend Tag. "I thought you and the Badger might enjoy this" was all it said, and it contained a link. I could see the link contained the words The Big Lebowski and I broke into a grin. One block farther, I laughed out loud. A quarter of a mile onward, my shoulders shook. At the next stoplight, the driver in the next lane appeared frightened of me. Dear reader, I am a woman who can recite much of the script of The Big Lebowski from memory. Say "Creedence" and I chuckle. "Nice marmot!" makes me squirt Diet Pepsi out my nostrils. The vision of John Goodman tossing a satchel of "the whites", his "undies" out the window to fool the nihilists into thinking it is the money . . . Walter, Donny, The Dude and The Jesus seem to be people I actually know. "Eight year olds." I forwarded the link to the Badger and continued my virtual viewing of the movie for a short distance.

Mother Badger circa 1927

New incoming e-mail ~ how many can one get in a short jaunt? Mother Badger has been reading the blogs again. She saw my statement that our business is booming unexpectedly and for reasons we can't discern. [David advises me to stop trying to discern it, for fear of my mental health. I can't stop. I have a tremendous need to know, to understand the "why" of things. I nearly make myself ill over it.] Mother Badger's message made me grin and then guffaw. For she hadn't had a worry in the world about our business picking up. "I love to say I told you so. I knew after the holidays, one look at the rugs and "Let's call the carpet cleaners!" would happen. I didn't even have to look in my crystal ball. Hope that the new year is calming and enlightening for you. Stow the angst." Arriving at home, my abs were tender from cackling non-stop.

We have a homecoming ritual, Dylan, Virginia Woolf and I. They meow to scold me for my hours of absence. I apologize out loud and explain that I'm responsible for the roof over our heads and the food that we eat. They meow more. They head-butt me for petting. Although I usually want to eat something or turn on the computer or put on some music, I invariably sit down for a few moments to stroke their fur and tell them how much I appreciate them keeping our home safe while I am away. It's a nice little program that we enjoy. I was tiring of it. They were not. I remembered Tag's link, fired up the computer, putzed in the kitchen and finally found a moment to sit down at the monitor.

Everything came together in quick succession. About the same time I clicked on Tag's link and realized it was a blogger's short Shakespeare-izing of The Big Lebowski, the Badger's e-mail landed ~ he'd seen the link, too. We "knaved" and "prithee'd" back and forth a bit as I chortled in front of the screen. The Lebowski scene rewritten in Elizabethan language was the one about the rug being soiled with urine . . . . something I would know about. There may be a future in rewriting movies for me, readers! I could get into this. I know about Shakespeare and Lebowski and dirty rugs and lots of things.

The day's lesson showed itself to me! Make sure to laugh, long and hard. Laugh until it hurts. Put down the anxiety. Appreciate the good things right at hand.

In my ears right now: A song I loved in the 70s and I love today. YouTube being the mixed bag of stuff it is, I'd advise the reader not to try to derive much from the slide show. Just enjoy J. D. Souther delivering the tune.

Something that charmed me: The desert's sophic reply to the age-old question, "Where do I go from here?"

We asked each other, "Do you suppose that occurred naturally?"


  1. Oh Les, "intexticated!!" Is that original? I LOVE IT! I love this whole piece. I'm so happy to share in your light-heartedness. Is that arrow picture yours? I don't see any other credits. Well done. All around. This makes me happy.

  2. @ Kass ~ Hey, Cookie, good morning. Yes, "intexticated" is my own. I make up words ~ I can make up words that have f**k as one of the syllables and it still sounds like a damnedf**ing good word. Learned at my father's knee. Sometimes I startle people because they're not entirely sure they heard what they just heard.

    The arrow shot is mine. I always credit when I use someone else's pics. I'm tetchy about taking away someone else's creative property or having someone take mine without saying "I borrowed this from Girlfriend."

    Lighthearted ~ yep, I am. You've probably figured out I only have two speeds: bleeding to death or pretty damned good. I prefer the one I'm in now and I thank you for feeling it with me.

    I'm working on a post I think you'll enjoy. One of your past comments was its catalyst.

  3. "There may be a future in rewriting movies for me, readers! I could get into this. I know about Shakespeare and Lebowski and dirty rugs and lots of things." Priceless!

  4. @ Rachel ~ I thank you for your comment and for stopping by today. I'm a woman who is pretty good at finding a niche when an opportunity is dropped in my lap! Always looking for a new thing to tickle my head.

  5. 'Always looking for a new thing to tickle my head" - Especially when said new thing is wrapped in venerable things. I'm happy you enjoyed the Lebowski link lighthearted limes loving Leslie.

  6. @ Tag ~ My friend, you made fully 50% of my evening and I thank you. Badge and I "prithee'd" and "knaved" till I nearly tipped over. You know, I enjoy sewing and doll-making and costume making. I'd love to work on a medieval Walter get-up! I bet Kass would know how to help with that. Very nice turn of language, there, Tag - that bit of alliteration above.

    Prithee, say nay! Do not let her have her head tickled nor snort her goblet of Diet Pepsi out her nose.

  7. It would be a kick to make dolls of all of the characters in The Big Lebowski. I'm envisioning it now.

  8. @ Kass ~ All right, here comes my less-than-holy side! Walter - my god, the SIZE of him! Frightening! Donny - my god, his sweet, vulnerable denseness. Bunny - her hussy-ness, potentially missing a toe! How big would we make the satchel containing Walter's "whites" ("undies")?

  9. the satchel would have to be cartoony big and the characters would have exagerated parts too...

  10. @ Kass ~ I'm a woman who can get into a "project" and OC it nearly to death. Even an imaginary project. You're a terrible influence on me! Huge people fascinate me. John Goodman (Walter) is a huge man. I'd submit that the satchel would HAVE to be enormous just to contain multiple pairs of his "whites". But, yes, we'd exaggerate it. Hmmm . . . exaggerated parts . . . I'm trying to feature how one could exaggerate Goodman/Walter. He's already pretty remarkable. Although the biceps come to mind. Make them hugely ham-like with limp, insignificant forearms. OH! And a chest as big around as the town water tank. I'm getting into the spirit of this! I've got a stash of good fabric and embellishments, too. And plenty of stuffing, which will be needed for the Walter doll. I'm envisioning Walter as looking rather like Henry VIII.

  11. New shit has come to light.

    Nice marmot!

    Saturday, Donny, is Shabbos, the Jewish day of rest. That means that I don't work, I don't get in a car, I don't f**king ride in a car, I don't pick up the phone, I don't turn on the oven, and I sure as shit don't f**king roll! Shomer shabbos!

    Nihilists! F**k me. I mean, say what you like about the tenets of National Socialism, Dude, at least it's an ethos.

    And, I would like my undies back.

    The Dude: Do you find them much, these stolen cars?
    Younger Cop: Sometimes. Wouldn't hold out much hope for the tape deck though.
    Older Cop: Or the Creedence.

    Prithee, say nay, Badger ~ stop me from posting more quotes!

  12. I wish I could work out more of the 'in house' references from way over here in Australia where I do not own a TV, nor read newspapers.

    It's a wonder I know anything at all, but I loved this and the music.

  13. @ Elisabeth ~ you're a good sport to have got through all of that and not have the reference points of the movie! It is a film that wouldn't appeal to everyone. I think people either love it or hate it. If you ever get a chance, give it a try. And by the way, I like other types of movies, as well ~ Sense & Sensibility, Howards End, A Room With a View. But Lebowski's right up there.

  14. @ All the Readers ~ Look at some blogger profiles. It amazes me how many people list The Big Lebowski as a favorite movie. A common trait of those who favor it is that they are really bright people.

  15. Ah yes, The Big Lebobo. I know people who idolize that movie to freakish proportions.

    My fave movie line of all time?

    "Juicy Fruit."

  16. @ Erin ~ Jiggle my head like the toilet flushing lever, please. "Juicy Fruit"?

  17. OK, somebody with wings made that arrow.

  18. @ Kirk ~ It wasn't me! Reports of my being angelic are highly exaggerated.

  19. Ha! I just want to know how come there's no footprints leading to or away from that arrow. Only thing I can figure is they had a lot of beach towels surrounding it.

  20. @ Kirk ~ I have another theory. The rocks may have been placed there long ago and the wind has smoothed the sand where the prints would be. Look at the photos of the dunes. These formations get enough wind to keep them beautifully smooth. But I can assure you no one present on the day I took my shot was ever confused with an angel. Now I am the fairy of Solstice Past, Present and . . . . . nah!

  21. You know, I didn't know those were rocks until you just now mentioned it, and I then magnified the picure. I thought they were footprints. Duh!

  22. Oh, Kirk, I am roaring. That is really endearing to me! I thought you were having me on. But you weren't. You need to hook up with Kass, come to Las Vegas and let me take you to my desert.