The real
trouble with not getting enough sleep for me is the crazy half sentences that
start to form in my head. For instance, as I was walking toward my train
station this morning I saw a very short woman holding a very long umbrella. The
umbrella was almost as tall as this woman. I thought to myself that I should
write about this woman and her umbrella. Perhaps she is a Third World Mary
Poppins bringing spoonfuls of water purification tables to the underprivileged children
with song. Then I thought that was sort of dumb and probably a little insensitive
to my large Third World fan base. So I tried
to empty it from my head.
But Third
World Mary Poppins is still lingering in the back of my mind, singing a ballad,
on a Spanish guitar. “Sólo una cucharada del
azúcar ayuda a la medicina a bajar.”
Which just makes me chuckle.
I moved on
in my thoughts to my family’s ability for mimicry. My mother, sister and I are
adept at picking up accents and the speech patterns of others. When we speak
with someone with a Southern accent, we cannot help but to start speaking the
way they do. I think we all can copy a British, Irish, Cockney, Indian, Michael
Caine, French, Polish, and German accents. (Dare is such a fing as a Michael
Caine accent). We pick up the nuances of the speech and replicate it. It’s
quite a gift we’re all blessed with. However, our actual use of a foreign
language is very limited. I think we all took Spanish in High School, but
retained very little of it.
My thoughts
then turned to my own sleepiness. I started thinking about Sleepy of the Seven
Dwarves. I almost wrote something about him today. But due to my more than
usual tired nature I couldn’t really come up with anything interesting to say
about him. Other than I really can relate to the poor guy. I feel very tired
today and could easily doze off in my cubicle mine shaft. But his issue was far
more serious. I mean, he clearly had an illness that the Dwarf Miner’s Union clearly wasn’t able to diagnose or provide proper
medical care for. I wonder what the Dwarf Miner’s Union dues were. Was there a
mobbed up Dwarf Mibner’s Union President? A Jimmy Hoffa type Dwarf pulling the
strings of puppet dwarf union leadership?
On a
personal note, I must say that the sudden death of James Gandolfini at 51 years
old from a heart attack was very sad this week. As an actor I thought he was
phenomenal and as a person he seemed to embody someone who really loved their
craft. As far as I’ve heard in the news, he was a very nice and pretty regular
guy. His presence will be missed. Luckily we have a library of his work from
the Sopranos to his early work in True Romance to sate our appetite for heavy
nose breathing.
It seems
like it’s time for another cup of coffee to try and ward off the sleepiness
that is teasing the edges of my brain. I hope I get a second wind soon and
straighten out my… my…. (Sneeze, sneeze, sneeze)… oh, excuse me. Sleepy
sneezes.
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