Driving my daughter and her friend R to a party:

As I sit in traffic --

R.: There's a better way you could have gone.

Me: Thanks, R. You are just like my daughter, you don't mention things until after I've done something else. OK -- what's the other way.

R.: I don't know the street name. Do you know where Fred Segal is?

Me: No, R. I don't know where Fred Segal is.

As, later, we pass Fred Segal --

Me: R, that's the street you live on. You should know the name of that street.

R. : Sorry. I only know landmarks.

Overheard at the book festival:

Man and woman at a booth, extolling the virtues of a book they are selling:

Man: . . . and he falls in love with a woman who eats fish.

Woman: It's a dark satirical work.

Song from my dream:

I have one glass eye
and sometimes I can't see at all
but other times I see
that the world's just a giant crystal ball

Sorority girl and fraternity boy at the baseball game. (With another couple, late arrivers and early leavers.)

First there is some complaint on his part about the inadequacy of her costume last Halloween.

He: You said you'd have a good costume, and all you do is dress like a Slim Jim. I thought you'd have something sexy, and you can't do anything better than a Slim Jim.

She: I liked it. Even my brother said it was cute.

The conversation is prompted by a need for costumes for an upcoming day at school, where you show up in costume and start drinking at 6 a.m. Perhaps they should go as Cameron Diaz and Ben Stiller from There's Something About Mary. She has the hair for it.

Or --

He: I think you should dress up dominatrix style, with leather, and a collar, and boots, and I could lead you around on a leash.

She: I'd be the one leading you on the leash.

He: What?

She: That would make sense. Me leading you.

He: What?

. . . . after some discussion, she teases him

She: I wear the pants in this relationship.

He: [his big comeback] The retard pants.

Been meaning to post this exchange for awhile, and there seems to be a window of opportunity.


Author at reading, in response to a question, straightens out some details of her heroine's love life. This is followed by a question.

Questioner: So is this autobiographical?
Author: Mom!

Grandmother: My mother used to ask her grandchildren what they thought the world would be like in the future. So now I am going to ask 13-year old N. what she thinks she'll be doing when she is 35.



Granddaughter N.: Probably drawing an unemployment check. [pause.] If all goes according to plan.

"You know, a lot of people say they like rock music, but myself, I prefer roll music."

-- a daughter who learns from her father

And then I jumped in the river, but the doggone river was dry --

"Long Gone Lonesome Blues" Hank Williams

From Street of No Return, a nice passage:

He was halfway up the steps when the mouse came running down.

Or rather, it came falling down, it must have been blind or sick, or maybe one of them lunatic mice that can't do things in a sensible way. Its tiny furry shape hit him full in the face and instinctively it fought for a hold with its legs. He locked his lips to hold back the startled yell and heard the mouse giving its own outcry of shock. It squeaked as loud as it could, decided this was not the place for it to be, and leaped off.

Whitey shook his head slowly and thought: That almost did it.

He rested there a few moments, trying to forget the feeling of the mouse dancing on his face. He said to himself: Let's disregard these minor issues, you got more stairs to climb, keep climbing.

George Bush to troops in Afghanistan:

I must say, I'm a little envious. If I were slightly younger and not employed here, I think it would be a fantastic experience to be on the front lines of helping this young democracy succeed.
It must be exciting for you ... in some ways romantic, in some ways, you know, confronting danger. You're really making history, and thanks

George Bush:

"And so, General, I want to thank you for your service. And I appreciate the fact that you really snatched defeat out of the jaws of those who are trying to defeat us in Iraq."—meeting with Army Gen. Ray Odierno, Washington, D.C., March 3, 2008

from Jacob Weisman's Bushisms, on Slate, and other sources.

In Australia, or anywhere I suppose, watch out for a guy named Nabulwinjbulwinj -- a dangerous spirit who eats females after striking them with a yam.