Scroll through this!

I was pretty pleased with what I wrote yesterday ("Flee screaming into the street!") I was a little smug even. And then, this morning a co-worker, to protect her identity let's call her Brenda G., before she had read it, complained that it was too long. Whining about having to scroll down, she urged me to be briefer, like when I began writing these posts dear reader (see "Dance, Varmint!") Well, well, well. So, the lengths of my posts are affronts to the civic norms under which we sweat and toil and persevere are they? I answer the charges unequivocably with "I am being brief!" Even if I wasn't, there are like totally way worse blog crimes I could be committing, right? Fer sure. I am pretty good about apologizing to you, dear reader, when I catch myself digressing. I am aware that I get off onto tangents in the middle of a thought, and then onto a further tangent from the first. Is this a meta-tangent? Sub-tangent? Maybe just a plain old vanilla tangent, just a different one from the one onto which I originally detoured. As I thought carefully how to defend what little honor I claim to have in the face of the insidious affront to my sensibilities, for some reason my mind skipped a beat, drifting from Brenda G. to Sandra Dee, which made me remember that song from Grease. Then, of course to John Travolta, Pulp Fiction, Scientology, South Park. Not in that or any other order. All at once. John Travolta is a pilot isn't he? Didn't John Denver die when his plane went into the ocean? John John too. Now that's weird. Three Johns, all pilots, two of them crashed into the ocean. But, dear reader, I digress, and therefore I transgress. Now where was I? Oh yeah. John Travolta was there somewhere. Welcome Back, Kotter kinda sucked IMHO. It can still be seen on TV Land. In my book, All in the Family and Taxi are the two best shows on that channel. I'm not really sure if they are still airing them though. It is baseball season afterall. Andy Kaufman was in Taxi for a few seasons. Or was it just one? Danny DeVito's movie about him, Man on the Moon, was pretty entertaining. I'm not sure why I had to get the video. It wasn't that good. R.E.M. sings a song called Man on the Moon. I really like that song. I have it on LP and CD. I like it more than I like Look at Me, I'm Sandra Dee. So, I guess all I can say in my defense is that it's not the destination, but the journey that counts. Even the little detours along the way. I don't want to create the impression that Brenda G. is some kind of wack job dear reader. Because of her expertise, I can now say with confidence "It's not just pink, but fuchsia." What I really want to know though, is just what is so wrong with pleats?