AT 13, Puck needs occasional breaks during walks. Moke’s old external frame backpack is perfect for giving him a lift.
Archive for the 'ephemera' Category Page 2 of 3
LAST WEEKEND I accidentally dropped a pair of gloves in Moke’s driveway, in Steamboat. (I think they fell off the car as we left to return to Denver.) Later Moke found them decorated with – well, you can guess by the title of this post. Inspired, he sent me this poem:
Two black dots
upon my road
Looks like someone
dropped his load
Might be poop
or Jeb’s black gloves
Or tractor goop
or mourning doves
Oh my god
it’s worse than I thought
A coyote dog
left a great big glop
Right in the center
of one wide palm
For our dear Jeb
a rear end alm.
Thanks for the poem, Moke. (And for washing the gloves.)
Sasha Frere-Jones, the music critic for the New Yorker, offers this harsh (yet mostly accurate) assessment of American Idol favorite David Archuletta:
David Archuleta, a smooth-skinned man-child with a giant smile, a good voice, and a creepy inability to become displeased with himself … may lose to the dark horse David Cook, a slightly doughy twenty-five-year-old rock singer who sounds improbably assured, and seems smarter every week, as Archuleta’s woodland-creature routine feels increasingly forced.
I’ve never been a big fan of Archuleta’s style, but I can give the 17-year-old a lot of credit—he’s the most natural talent on the Idol stage.
THIS is amazing. And nostalgia-inducing.
[Hat tip: Ezra Klein]
Mariah was tired the other night. Trying to convey the extent of her fatigue and its effect on her overall functioning, she said, “I’m pretty worseleth.”
Of course, she meant to say worthless, but she transposed—spoonerism-style—two parts of the word, producing a pretty awesome neologism, one that was way more descriptive of her current state than worthless.
We were both a little slap-happy at that moment, and worseleth threw us into hysterical laughter.
Mariah took this photo outside of Sheridan, Wyo., in 2005.