Tuesday, July 10, 2007
But as Chesterton says, “If a thing is worth doing, it’s worth doing….” you know the rest. I’m… I’m, just. I’m speechless. Why do I torture myself.
There are only two reasons why any Philadelphia Philly batter would be the final batter in a ball game. One, you hit a walk-off __________ (home-run, single, anything…) or two, you get the last out.
The same is true in the All-Star game. The same is WORSE in the All-Star game - uh, oh… did I give it away, Aaron Rowand. Oh! Uh.. sorry Aaron, that… that you put a final end to the National League rally…
It’s not your fault. It’s Tony LaRussa’s fault. Two words: A-L-B-E-R-T. P-U-J-O-L-S.
I’m not proud of the fact that I don’t care about those readers who have no idea what I’m talking about. Right now, I don’t care.
It’s worth doing badly.
Friday, June 1, 2007
Since school has ended I’ve not generated many art ideas, and this is a sure sign that I need to refuel. Refueling always involves looking at a lot of art and reading great fiction.
About eight years ago I bought an old paperback copy of Eudora Welty’s A Curtain of Green from a church rummage sale in Jackson, Mississippi for 25 cents. I started to read it, then stopped, and it’s been on my book shelf ever since. A native of Jackson, Welty won a Pulitzer Prize for her novel The Optimists Daughter, but is best known for her short stories, of which A Curtain of Green was her first collection, published in 1941. She also happened to live across the street from Belhaven College, my alma mater. I remember that I could see her house from where I sat in my freshman English class back in the fall of 1993.
So recently I’ve decided that I’ll read Welty this summer. I’ve been away from the south for a long time, and I think it would do me good to reconnect through the words of one of the many great Mississippi authors. This time around, though, I decided to begin the book with care, and peruse each page, which I had never done. This is what I discovered:
I’m not George, but that’s Eudora, and I appreciate him selling me his book for a quarter
