April 17th, 2010



Neat estate sale in Westchester. I picked up the 1930s volume of This Fabulous Century (to go with the 1920s I already have). They had several more in the series, but I feared the necessary shelf space. Also picked up a neat little pamphlet on the ranchos of Los Angeles, published by the Title Insurance and Trust Company of Los Angeles in 1941. I'm guessing they gave these out as freebies to the Iowans buying property in LA back then. In fact, it even turned into a radio show. And we also picked up some sturdy... heavy... dull... metal patio chairs. But we passed up the vacuum tubes (still in their cute little boxes) and all sorts of other random flotsam.

Just around the corner was a yard sale, and I stumbled on delightful treasure. Stairway to Hell. It was funny, I would have missed it among all the paperback crud, but teenage son took the time to especially mock it. "That book says D&D rots your brain, but I think that book rots your brain." Teenage daughter was wearing her Twilight t-shirt, and there were a number of Harry Potterish things for sale. So I think mom lost that battle. It was also odd that there was a necklace with a little glass window showing a portion of a map centered on a local landmark blazoned in red text: "Birthplace of Mary Baker Eddy". And a Christian Scientist church (kind of a funky building) was a block away. Coincidence? I think not!

Back home... tritip and vegetable grilling among the flowers in the backyard. Then satiated nap.

the Atomic Messiah's miracle

citizenbrown had a little shindig last night to celebrate the miraculous non-brokenness of his leg. What further proof is needed that the Atomic Messiah can rearrange atoms to suit his needs, and transmit salvation?

In any event, many friends were about for conviviality and conversation. Important news and revelations vied with less serious conversations, such as determining the best proxy for sex among the activities that earn one points in weight watchers: squat thrusts or wrestling?
graydons amused all with his profound ignorance of fantasy literature. Not only did he defend later Amber novels, and expose his ignorance of Leiber and Moorcock, but he seemed to be under the impression that sword and sorcery originated roughly at the same time as his own mayfly-like existence. He uttered something like: "I mostly read Dragonlance. I had no idea sword and sorcery existed in the 1930s."

I'm very sorry, Richard. Please drink some rum to dull the pain. Rest assured I heaped scorn upon him. I am not a violent man, but I think flame shot out of my eyes as I shouted 'Conan!?!?!' at him.

And since I mentioned it at the time, I like a lot of Zelazny's short stories better than his novels. So seek out his collections, particularly Last Defender of Camelot.