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2004-05-21 - 12:29 p.m. Yellow ladder to nowhere Cool, misty morning. Overcast day. Everything is green and lush from the recent dampness. Just as I curved up the beltway on ramp, fiddle music blaring from my stereo, my truck was filled with the smell of honeysuckle; and, just for a moment I was at the edge of my childhood, where the honeysuckle blooms climb the bank at the farm. Except, possibly, for the persistent music of the cicadas that now underscores everything in the area. Truly, they sound like the phaser blast from old Star Trek. Except they never turn off. I find them strangely soothing. Two days of intense work with my science team does make you a bit wonky. Espescially when they begin the meeting my distributed some of my notes, written in fatigue at 6pm one night, in which branded one of my poor scienctists 'Useful Science Guy', because I couldn't remember his title when typing up the information. I should make him a t-shirt, but he's already taking enough grief from his colleagues. .... so, what does that mean you think of the rest of us? Yes, two days of this, which is why poor Roland was subjected to a handpuppet replay of my day, beginning with ... First, I had a venti mocha frap, which may have been my mistake. Roland blinks. Could you please speak English? That was english. It just a drink from Starbucks, so your not familiar with it. Hmmm. Except venti is Italian, I think, and so is frappucino. Oh, and I guess mocha would be maybe English. Maybe not. Okay, fine, so they were no English words in that sentence. But the drink had sugar and caffeine and made me all skippy. Anyway, I ran into the Koni-chi-wa boy today ... Roland blinks again, looking like he's getting whiplash from all this rapid change of subject.. The other driver from the Monkey Story? Yes, and then, wait, this will take puppets.... Roland, fearfully but staunchly, listens to the bizarreness of my day, waiting, hoping, praying, I will wind down soon ... ... right outside the conference room, there is this ladder mounted to the wall. It's painted bright screaming yellow and it goes nowhere. How Zen is that? A cheerfully colored ladder to nowhere? Why do you people want to listen to what goes on inside my head? � � Scribble to Theo previous - next �