Post Time

We finally got around to watching the movie musical "Nine" the other night. I am pretty sure they named it that because that would be its rating. On a scale of 1 to 100.

Or maybe I am being unfair since I did think the acting was outstanding. But the fact is I don't like musicals, especially movie musicals. Except maybe West Side Story, Cabaret and Hair (loved the dancing horses). And I am a bit embarrassed to admit it, but I enjoy watching Glee. Hmm, maybe I do like musicals but just not Nine.

But I mention Nine for another reason. It's about a movie director with writer's block (director's block?). It's a musical version of Fellini's movie "8 1/2". I think only Fellini could create a masterpiece by making a film about how he's unable to make a film. (Well, only Fellini and Woody Allen, Bob Fosse and Arthur Penn.)

Which is a very long introduction to explain that even I am getting a bit annoyed at how seldom I post to this blog anymore. I could offer plenty of explanations, but the fact is I haven't had much go through my head that makes me want to sit down and write a post.

It's not that life is boring me right now, but I think writing about it would be. Do you really want to hear how excited I was to discover our grocery store was having a massive sale? Sure, to us old retired farts saving $4 on a jumbo pack of toilet paper is exciting, but what else can I say about it? Or to be more precise, what else can I say about it that would not be in very bad taste?

I could write that slowly we are making progress getting the house set up, but how many days in a row do I write that before even Judy loses her patience and writes a comment to get a move on and finish the bloody thing already.

Do you want to know that the herbs are growing magnificently? That we (we being LK) have changed our (her) mind slightly about how to set up the family room? That I am totally bummed out that the Patriots lost. And shocked that Jason would rub it in with a text message. (Shocked because I had no idea he was a Jets fan. Where did we go wrong?)

Or should I tell you that this blog has magical properties? I can't tell you how often I write about something and almost immediately the opposite happens. Right after big-noting myself about writing 500 posts I had troubles much like this month and couldn't think of a thing to write.

Or more recently, desperate for anything to write about, I decide you all need to know I have cracked heels? Almost immediately, they healed (pun intended). Short of ideas, I whine and complain about tradesmen not coming by to finish off the kitchen renovation. Within an hour the fridge is in place (pics here if you care) and the others I complained about have rung to set up a new time.

So now I am writing about how hard it is to think of things to write about. And hoping that the magical blog will make it easy again.

And if it doesn't work, at least I am beginning to understand Fellini's trick. You can't expect people to be interested in uninteresting stuff. Unless you write about how difficult it is to write about uninteresting stuff.

Hmmm, Maybe tomorrow I will write about getting my hair cut.