Mean Gene

Fish...They All Taste the Same

You don't think my beach volleyball crew would lose to a team called "The Fishes", would you? And we didn't. It's a co-ed league, three boys to one girl, tho their ratio was reversed. Which is nice on both a competitive and aestheic level. We didn't play that great, especially with the Wrigley Field-eqse conditions, but a win is a win is a win. The only downside is that my shoulder problem--and it's about time I just started calling it my rotator cuff--gets worse day by day. I took a swing and my shoulder about exploded with pain, all the way down my arm. I can hit relatively pain-free at times, but depending on how I catch the ball there are times it kills me. Add the fact that the ball tends to soak up moisture as the match goes and by the third game it's like trying to spike roundshot. I can hit lefty so-so, but I think I'd better start practicing a bit.

I've spent the last ten days or so reading all the blogger Vegas reports. Reminds me of Kurosawa's Rashomon, in that we see the same event from many different points of view. Tho I don't think Kurosawa did quite so many shots or lay down the Hammer. Lots of pictures too, which were fun to look at, matching names to faces. I'm still trying to get a decent pic of me on here, for promotional purposes, of course.

After seeing pictures of Otis both with and without the goatee, did anyone else say that it reminded them of the "South Park" episode where the evil Stan and Kyle come back from the other dimension to bring back evil Cartman? Just wondering.

This is going to sound weird, but here goes: There were lots and lots of bloggers out there having a good time. Drinking, playing, partying. And there are boy bloggers, and girl bloggers too. And, of course, that's a very good thing.

Here's the weird part--some sourpusses have compared this little community to a high school clique. As if that's a bad thing. Or, a totally bad thing. But of course it's not high school--it's a collection of like-minded people having fun yada yada yada. Who cares? But. If I found out that a boy blogger, and a girl blogger, like, hooked up or something...I would be totally scandalized. Not that there's anything wrong at all with that, love conquers all and so on. But I would need to sit down with a fan and a glass of lemonade. My stars.

I had something else to write about...maybe not. I've been working on a short story...but with me the word "short" never applies. I hit 4,000 words and hadn't even gotten to the main part yet. Get out the red pen, cut, cut, cut. I look at 700-page novels and wonder how the hell the author filled all those pages, and then it takes me 25 pages just to get the goddam narrator into the goddam room where the action takes place. Brevity is the soul of wit. Well, maybe that explains things after all.

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