My friend told me to look myself up on Google: Results 1 – 10 of about 55,600 for “pia savage”. (0.05 seconds) There is one other Pia Savage and she accounts for about two of the entries.
Then I looked Courting up; Results 1 – 10 of about 26,900 for “courting destiny”. (0.05 seconds)
I would be pretty darned impressed with myself if I were in the mood to be.
I did a very sick rant that I put up on the sidebar at Bring it on!
Very sick: I even rant against 9/11 families and they’re sacred. You’re supposed to kill your first born before saying anything negative about them. We gave them our hearts and our help; I heard somebody whine about wanting to be left to grieve in peace and not help with the hurricane.
It’s not the same thing; many of Katrina’s survivors have dead relatives, no home, no job, no money. They’re not going to walk away from this with millions. People who have accepted help have a moral obligation to help if needed. Sorry for being so blunt.
But for the first time since 2001 we have clear blue skies; it’s so beautiful, we should be reveling in it when we can. Some days it’s easy. I was going to try to put some pictures in of a Manhattanite’s version of a Labor Day barb-e-que–if you don’t have a deck or garden; the Boat Basin Cafe in Riverside Park. It’s one of my favorite places in the world
Never made it to the beach today; apparently I enjoy ranting more.
The post below this one has every song lyric in Warren Zevon’s “The Wind.” It’s poetry in motion, (my favorite childhood song) and pure power. I understand why David Letterman had his only one guest show with Warren, and why so many people have dedicated books to him: from Carl Hiassen to Jonathan Kellerman. Both write mysteries but Hiassen is edgy, a bit over the top, while Kellerman writes great characters, yet lately they seemed forced.
Writing about Warren Zevon and mystery authors, even so briefly, has totally calmed me down and changed my mood. If Warren Zevon could write such amazing words when he was dying…maybe it was because he was dying; I can enjoy a damn blue sky.
It’s just–the supplies that are listed everywhere; there where lists like that outside of every drug store and supermarket then. It comes back and I think “how dare you become depressed and cranky, when there is no more New Orleans.”
I can’t even begin to comprehend what the people are feeling or will feel. I can’t begin to comprehend any of it.
The weather is supposed to good for at least the next ten days. Next week: Montauk for a day or two where I can walk on the beach and chill. one thing that will always get me out of a funk is a few days on the ocean, and Montauk’s about my favorite place on earth.