A few utterly disconnected items.
1. One of the aspects of popular fame that would really disturb me if I were popularly famous is that news services routinely prepare anticipatory obituaries for such people. I understand, they don't want to be caught having to write something appropriate, pithy, ironic, or whatever in the 3 minutes they have to scoop other news services on the death watch. But still, there's something very slightly ghoulish about it, and the notion that someone has already summed up my life and achievements in 300-500 words while I'm still alive strikes as judgment before the trial. Case in point, the clearly canned obit the San Francisco Chronic Ill just posted about Anna Nicole Smith.
2. I'm trying very hard to make the most of the break between Winter and Spring, by being On A Break. So far, this is working well, except insofar as I'm working on a paper and tracking down a few issues for lecturers. I think I've got four songs in the works now, though.
3. A few candidates for my motto came to me lately:
* I eat pipsqueaks like you for breakfast!
* I'm the philosopher-chef. I saute wisdom.
* Speak softly, and carry a big schtick. (an oldie from college days)
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