Whoa, Cut the Lettuce, Daddy-O!

I have a friend who insists that "Random Thoughts" are the last refuge of the boring blogger. Perhaps he is right. However, as I have a number of such thoughts that refuse to be fleshed out into anything more interesting, please allow me to bore you.

First things first. I have come to find myself in yet another play. I'm not exactly sure how it happened, as in the months leading up to the audition it was Orrick who was expressing his interest in the show and I who was expressing my doubts about it; in the end, when he abandoned his intention to audition he lit the fire under mine, deciding that I was no good at home without something to do. Perhaps it was the Big Ol' Doughy Chicken Leg that gave me away. So, off to the audition I went and landed a role that has been notably played by Dames Maggie Smith and Judi Dench, though it is the performance of Dame Edith Evans (1952) that gets the most attention. No Dame myself, I shall have some rather well-heeled shoes to fill. Rather than lace-up boots, however, I may be more likely found in a pair of comfortable black flats circa 1950, as the show is getting a facelift... and being transported to this side of the pond.

You know, of course, that this means I might just have to admit to having had a few Rice Krispies treats with Miss Harbury, who seems now to be living entirely to "have a blast." Then I'll tell Algernon that his wet-rag friend Bunbury should get on the stick and decide whether he is going to kick the bucket after all. Meanwhile, I'll hope that he cools it on Saturday, 'cause I'll need Algy to arrange some sounds for my reception when everybody makes the scene.

On to another random thought before my head explodes....

Lettuce. What is the deal with lettuce? I went to the store today and there were all of seven heads of neglected lettuce looking terribly forlorn under a 3/$1 sign. Gimme a break, folks. E-coli, shmee-coli! The time to worry about killer bacteria is BEFORE anyone discovers the problem. By the time you catch wind of the E-coli scare, the product has already been pulled from shelves. You can be pretty damned sure that the lettuce you're buying today is some of the healthiest you'll ever get in your life.

Whattaya gonna do to me if I'm wrong?

And then there's the whole Friday the 13th thing. I know, I know. It was days ago. Old news. Still, it drives me crazy that every single time Friday the 13th crosses our calendarical paths we have to hear endless stories about triskaidekaphobia. The fear of the number 13. What kills me is the way some media outlets cover "Triskaidekaphobia" as a horrible, afflicting disease with a capital "T." "It's so bad, some people won't even go to WORK on Friday the 13th!" Yeah, it's bad all right. Bad reporting. Because Friday has nothing to do with it and there's a damned 13th in EVERY MONTH. Unless these folks are going to crawl under their blankets on Monday, November 13th, what they actually suffer from is paraskevidekatriaphobia. Now I'd like my local reporter to get her facts straight, because this is obviously a very serious condition. Once, maybe twice a year, 21 million Americans actually *gasp* consider calling in sick to work, EVEN IF THEY ARE NOT SICK! Can you imagine? We must get to the bottom of this horrible affliction, before more days are lost to All My Children! The first step is knowledge. No more can we confuse our phobias! Write your congressman. Demand an orange ribbon. Do it now.

Until tomorrow....