Down to the Wire

The cliffhanger for yesterday's blog promised I would write about Lasik eye surgery today. I was hoping to write a nice, scientifically sound piece with a little fluff and a happy ending [not to be confused with the other kind of "fluff" and "happy ending"]. I wasn't counting on having my test subject decline to participate claiming privacy concerns at the last minute.

I respect my subjects wishes, so I will postpone until further notice. Mental note: Lesson learned about pre-authorization and written releases. That still leaves me in a bit of a quandary... what to write about. BlOgtoberfest wouldn't mean much if I bailed out on the third day. I'd lose all credibility [what little I had to begin with] and the project would basically be rendered meaningless. Alas, I find myself at the 11th hour scrambling for material.

I could write about procrastination. I certainly have mastered it as an art form. I could also write about some things that have been pissing me off lately, but I'm not really in the mood to gripe this late at night. I prefer to get pissed off in the morning when I have more energy for it. It's so much more satisfying to call tech support in India or Apple Computers when I've had two cups of coffee and no breakfast and the last usable shred of blood sugar is depleted as the person on the other end of the phone says, "...and how may I help you today?". Stephanie suggested I write about being impatient. It has been over a month and I still have not heard from PSU about my admission packet despite my toe tapping at the mailbox. Suppressing my urge to pester the school has been difficult, but I know it is wiser to remain anxious than to stalk an English Department. I could talk about the glee I felt when I heard Britney Spears lost custody of her kids, but that would just make me sound spiteful.

So, I think I will keep it light.

Before I met Stephanie, I used to cruise the singles websites pretty regularly. Come on, don't act like you haven't done it. I remember this one post, I think on match.com, where a profile I had been drawn to contained something I have never forgotten. The girl lived in Vancouver, which was automatically a dealbreaker. That will be funny to those who live in Portland or who know I'm an area code snob [i.e. you can't say you live in Seattle if your telephone area code isn't 206. If you're area code is 425, you're and Eastsider, that's the bottom line. Yo, 313, Fuck Free World.(Watch "8 Mile")]. Anyway, the girl's post contained something I thought was utterly hilarious. That was, she wanted prospective suitors to email her with their best SPAM (yes, the lunch meat) Haiku. If she liked it enough, you got a response. That simple.

I think everybody knows what haiku is, but for those who don't, it's a form of poetry [with Japanese origins] written in 17 syllables divided into 3 lines of 5, 7, and 5 syllables, and employing highly evocative allusions and comparisons, often on the subject of nature or one of the seasons. That's the plagiarized definition, anyway. I believe that in Japan, they have Haiku contests, perhaps parades, and haiku poets hold high honor like samurais and Pokemon. OK, I pulled that part out of my ass.

I always thought haiku about SPAM was just about the most original idea ever. I once considered writing a SPAM Haiku coffee table book complete with photos that would be accompanied by a 365-day desk calendar with the SPAM haiku of the day on each page. For obvious reasons, I gave that dream up.

Here's my crack at SPAM Haiku:

Pink mystery meat,
Juicy aspic and nuggets,
Line my sandwich bags.

Solid blue tin can,
Containing random meat bits
Where can I get some?

What is that pink stuff
Dripping off my lunch plate now?
Have I lost an ear?

See how fun that is? I really could go on all night. Spunky little phrases like these are easy for me to churn out. I don't know what the Japanese find so fascinating about haiku, but throw in a processed meat product, and it gets interesting.

Leave your comments. I can't wait to hear your versions.

[Tomorrow's blog will be a tribute to my grandma, since it's her birthday. She doesn't get the blog, or own a computer for that matter, but hopefully she knows how I feel about her. Tomorrow, you will too.]

C