Yogi

I had a thought running through my barely-awake mind when I was doing my Wii Fit Yoga routine this morning... whoever is voicing Yogi Bear in the new movie doesn't sound like the real Yogi. The real Yogi has a warm depth to his voice and whoever that is has a more brittle sound. Does that make sense? Do you care? Why do I care? It's not as if I'm hurrying out to buy a ticket to see an inane movie like that, it's just something that nags at me sometime. Isn't the human brain a wonder?

People came into the dive shop yesterday but none of them spent any money. So how's your 2011 going so far? I'm working today so I'll be knitting at Patti's tonight. I don't go often because I usually don't work on Tuesdays so I don't make the cross-town trek (all of 5 miles), but since I'll be there at knitting time anyway, I thought I'd go and see Karen and Mary and Patti and Denise and other people I don't care a fig about. God forbid I should put myself out to see them.

January 3--Stettheimer, The Cathedrals of Broadway. Colors swirled--red, gold, white--flashing before his eyes. He groaned and shifted on the narrow bed. His left foot wormed its way out from under the covers to touch the cold floor as if his unconscious mind sought something stable to hold onto. Car horns honked, whistles blew as doormen summoned cabs, and thin women dressed in fox furs and satin laughed the seductive notes that fill men with hunger. His fingers flexed on the rough sheet straining to reach the lights and sounds of the night. Cigarettes were lit, cocktails sparkled in crystal glasses and jazz throbbed through the city's very marrow. A rising siren brought him upright, the clammy sweat making his dingy undershirt stick to his bony shoulders. The sounds and lights of his dream were replaced by the buzz and flicker of the neon sign outside the flophouse window. He groaned and pounded the stained pillow into shape, determined to sleep again without dreaming.

Well, hmmm. Interesting. Yesterday's flurries banded together to make a dusting of snow on the driveway. I should probably dress and shovel it away before I leave for work. Toodle-oo.
--Barbara