My books can be purchased as e-books for only $1.99. If interested, just click here: Books.
Match Play is a golf/suspense novel. Dust of Autumn is a bloody one set in upstate New York. Prairie View is set in South Dakota, with a final scene atop Rattlesnake Butte. Life in the Arbor is a children's book about Rollie Rabbit and his friends (on about a fourth grade level). The Black Widow involves an elaborate extortion scheme. Doggy-Dog World is my memoir. And ES3 is a description of my method for examining English sentence structure.
In case anyone is interested in any of my past posts, an archive list can be found at the bottom of this page.
My newest novel, Happy Valley, can be found here.

Thursday, July 31

From Disgusting to Sublime

Last night we went out for Chinese at Peking House, wonderful menu, wonderful meals, but much of their revenue comes from take-out. There were only six of us there when we arrived, two single males and another couple seated near us. One of the men was at a table for eight near the back of the restaurant. He was nearly finished when our dinner arrived, drinking beer. And then he went into a prolonged nose blowing. I’m a bit OCD so I started counting. He blew once, then twice . . . then another eleven at about one minute intervals. Thirteen all together. Nose blowing is a personal activity, much as is defecating and urinating and masturbating, and should be done in privacy, not in a public place, especially not in a restaurant. But there he was, blowing and blowing quite loudly. Each time he blew, I shuddered, as did Rosalie and the couple near us. On our way out, I was tempted to go up to him and slap him on the head. But I was afraid with the slap he’d probably blow something onto me. Disgusting man, disgusting behavior.

And now to the sublime. I’ve written often about my admiration for So You Think You Can Dance. Once more won’t hurt. I find it odd that Nigel Lythgoe is connected to both SYTYCD and American Idol, as producer on both and judge on Dance. Odd since the one is so very classy and the other so very unclassy. We’ve been faithful followers of SYTYCD for all ten seasons, and each season is better than the last—better dancers, better staging, better costuming, better choreographers. The judges supply insightful comments about each routine, often funny, sometimes rhapsodic, always insightful, unlike the judges on Idol, who wouldn’t know insightful if it bit ‘em on the ass. Then there’s always the comparison between Cat Deeley and Ryan Seacrest. No contest. She’s tall and beautiful; he’s short and though not ugly, freezes me with a forced, frozen grin. I was sad to read that this might be the last season for Dance. Ratings down. That must say something about the intelligence of the viewing audiences of both shows. If you’ve never tuned in to SYTYCD, do so now. We need the rating to rise. We need the sublimity of this show to continue.

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