By the prickling of my thumbs...

Its Sunday night and I am winding down from a fairly pleasant, though somewhat surreal weekend. Went down to Tucson and caught up with my old buddy, Dee-wayne.

We've been friends since we were in grade school (Dad still refers to him as "ol' slack-jaw" owing to his childhood propensity towards mouth breathing) and the strangest thing about seeing him after two years is how un-strange it was. Kinda like slipping on an old pair of shoes that were stuck under the bed. You thought they were gone - and they're not - and it's really cool for a bit - and then you put them on and its like they were never missing.

Think its strange to compare friends to old shoes? Yeah, maybe. I can't decide if this is a normal state of mind for the returning traveller or if I am ever so slightly disconnected right now. Maybe a little of both.

Just finished reading "Something Wicked This Way Comes" for the first time, by the way. Not my favorite Bradbury, ever, but not bad. It was a little slow to start but picked up after the first hundred pages or so.

Have I mentioned what a kick-ass library we have in Phoenix? (Did I say "we?" Hmm. Maybe Phoenix really is the place for me, after all). The Barton-something-or-other-Library (Barton Fink? Bartelby Scrivener? Butterburr?) is pretty damned cool. It's a four-story glass, steel, and neon box that actually looks pretty cool -and- wonder of wonders, they have books! A lot of books. Even books I like to read. No, really. Okay, blah blah blah, back to "Something Wicked..."

So the book is a sleeper to start (typical sci-fi/mystery stuff) but then gets more interesting when the father of one of the two kids gets involved. He's this somewhat distant, melancholic dude who appreciates but is a definite contrast to the wildness of youth. He drone on a bit about good and evil, but... then he touches on death, and how things get tainted with a sadness because of it.

Later, he manages to overcome the forces of darkness/evil/etc. with laughter. Yes, its all a bit syrupy (and maybe a little preachy) but something struck a chord in me and I thought, "yup, that's why I read this book"; to remember about laughter and light. Thank you Mr. Bradbury, wherever you are.

Well. I gotta get up and make the donuts tomorrow. Peace.