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It doesn’t have to make sense, it’s better when it doesn’t. Sometimes I feel like my brain’s secretary when I write down details from my dreams. It’s as if there’s an executive pushing a button in his office, speaking into an intercom, and summoning me– only he’s calling me by a woman’s name: “Mrs. Finklestein! I need you to take a memo!”  Here are the remnants from one of those sessions last August: I was gonna ride a bicycle in a marathon somewhere in CA. I was borrowing the bike from Angie (Homer’s) and she had a lock w/a combination– 139. It was gonna cost $1200 – $1300 to ride, but that included a place to camp. The brochures were full of green camping equipment ala Coleman brand. John Cleese was in charge of the registration & when he got my last signature, he reached out to shake my hand, but only let me grab two fingers. He said, “You’ve done a good thing here by saving my grandmother.”

When I was really little, I could tell you what time it was if there was a TV and a TV guide nearby. My parents had a hard time getting me away from the TV back in those days. I was glued to it. They wanted me to turn it off and play outside. They didn’t understand that I would lose all concept of time if I spent too much time outside! I didn’t understand how to tell time by looking at “the big hand” and “the little hand” on a clock. It was easier to just turn on the TV, and see Bugs Bunny or Porky Pig. I knew it was somewhere between 9 or 9:30 on Saturday morning. That was close enough for me.

It was sunny, there was free time, and we were overdue for a Sunday drive. Those were basically the reasons that Jenny & I drove to Ottawa yesterday. We turned north off highway 68, parked on the shady side of Main Street, and started walking. Some of the sights we took in included a Sears store, an army surplus store, and a church built in 1887. Ottawa is about 45 minutes southwest of us, and the speed limit goes up to 75 a few miles before the first exit.

In Star Trek when Spock does a mind meld, the first thing he always says is, “my mind to your mind,” and then he uses a Vulcan trick get inside someone’s head. One time he even got inside some thing’s head– it was a piece of molten rock. Anyway, the real reason I’m making this post is because I heard words sung to the old Star Trek TV theme song last night. They were actually written by Gene Rodenberry so he could get half of the royalties. Click here to listen, or you can read the lyrics below, and sing them yourself:
Beyond the rim of the starlight
My love is wand’ring in star-flight
I know he’ll find in star-clustered reaches
Love, strange love a star woman teaches.
I know his journey ends never
His star trek will go on forever.
But tell him while he wanders his starry sea
Remember, remember me.

Last month I helped fund a kickstarter project: The Decline of Mall Civilization. It’s a book full of 1980′s mall pics. If it weren’t for my favorite 80′s podcast I would have totally missed out. Photographer Michael Galinsky was on an episode of Stuck in the 80′s this summer to wax nostalgic about mall culture and talk about his new book. My copy will be arriving soon.

“…ain’t got nothin’ to do, but roll around heaven all day.” This was the sunset we saw in west Shawnee last night. The smartphone camera never does it justice, but we still snap a photo when it looks like this.