I’m going to take a wild stab here and suggest that Sylwester is probably pushing up daisies now. He was after all, something like 93 at the time he had his penile implant. I will also go so far as to suggest, however, that it’s entirely likely that his Dick is still Mobying along, although it won’t be doing his young wife any good any more (she was something like 26?) And on further conjecture, it’s most likely she’s okay with all this, having become his sole heir.
Oh, yes, I’ve been watching Louie CK. He’s very funny and there is something incredibly likable about him (that word, ‘likable,’ doesn’t look right. I had an ‘e’ in there at first [likeable] but spellcheck said no, so I took it out and spellcheck is happy. Still, to me, however, it looks like it should be pronounced ‘lickable,’ and that’s a very different thing). The series are available on Netflix, which I just reactivated, and I’m watching it the way I like most: several episodes at a time. I decided a long time ago that if I can wait until something becomes available on Netflix or Amazon Prime, I will wait for that and watch mini-marathons (mostly ad-free, too!) and be better off. I’m only at season 2, so I have a lot of enjoyment ahead of me.
I think I had the same unfortunate kinds of revelation about The Dick when I was reading it. At one point (and I wasn’t even doing mushrooms at the time) I was convinced some gremlins were adding pages every time I put the book down. That probably happened to me right about where you might be now in the book: at the lengthy discussions of whale anatomy. Still, I muddled through it and if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be able to be having these scintillating discussions about blubber. I noticed that, even with all Melville’s perseverating on details of whales’ bodies, he omitted any references to the males’ p3nises, and I wondered if a latent homosexuality wasn’t responsible for that. Fortunately I have seen some of Isabella Rossellini’s fascinating series on animal sexuality and she filled in the blanks there.
I’m glad you had good days with Alan before sending him off back to school. I can relate to his wanting another pair of the same Merrells that he’s worn for years now: I have a pair that I absolutely love love love, and they don’t make them any more. The closest things to them (I’ve now tried two different types) are nowhere near as comfortable. I’m kicking myself (with the shoes on, even!) for not buying up a half-dozen pair when I had the chance. I had to google to find them in the first place — saw a pair on someone and liked them — and it was no easy task finding them in the first place: I didn’t even know who made them. It was a most fortuitous moment when I did find them, but I wasn’t forward-thinking enough to realize they would wear out before I could procure another pair.
What I decided, vis-à-vis the PT, is to skip it for the time being. I had a couple of revelations a couple of weeks ago, and having done a little investigating on my own, I’m undertaking to make things better by the use of vitamin E and Ensure Muscle Health Formula. I fully expect to see improvement and fewer aches. The vitamin E also helps the lymphedema and other things, and I’m already seeing an improvement there. Hey, even if it’s placebotic (a word I just made up) I’m happy with that.
Speaking of neologisms, yesterday I accidentally made up a really cool one. I was texting John about the shooting at the Empire State Building, and I meant to write “…an ex-employee pulled a nutty and a gun…” but somehow a slip of the finger turned it into “…an exployee pulled a nutty…” and I didn’t realize the typo until the text got sent. When I saw what happened I realized, given all the disgruntled ex-empoyees out there who pull nutties, we have a serious need for the word “exployee.”
Not much going on here now: the newsletter is at the print shop; proofs have been reviewed and approved, so it’s out of my hands and on its way eventually into the hands of our beloved members/readers, which, fuck ’em.
And thinking waaay back to the BI Yiddish class, I’m pretty sure we didn’t learn right-to-left script because we didn’t use the Yiddish alphabet. It was meant to be a crash course in medically focused conversational Yiddish, so didn’t we just use Roman transliterations of the words? (I’m asking you, but it’s okay to say you don’t remember. I seem to have this weird propensity for remembering minutiae from the past — and forgetting to do things like put on pants before going outside — but even I’m not sure of what we did in that class.)
Okay, some Walrus is telling me it’s time to stop talking about Merrell shoes and whaling ships (and we never got to cabbages or kings, but that’s perfectly okay) and to get myself motivated and moving. Odd. “Motivate” comes from a Latin word that means “move,” and yet we can use both “motivate” and “move” in the same sentence and not be redundant or repetitive.
Crap; I just blew it.