liquor, yermo.  Copyright Bianca Dorso.

Visiting with friends the other night, the conversation inevitably turned to how quickly life can spiral out of control.  How you stop paying attention for like, a minute, and the next thing you know you've let yourself go, lost your home, lost your job, racked up a couple felony convictions and you're drinking the hand-sanitizer your sister buys for her kids.

"It's 62% ethanol," a friend explained.  "It's like 120 proof right there in her purse, if you can get past the gelatinous part.  Mixing with hot water is the trick."

"And mothers these days wonder why their children lick their hands," observed someone else.

"Well I never..." began another and quickly stopped himself as we collectively rolled our eyes.  Never say never.

In 1904 news, the delightful and prolific expat at Cafe Muscato posted recently about the Goops, the beloved and incorrigible small creations of Gelett Burgess (More Goop Tales, 1904) who inspired Theodor ["Dr."] Seuss Geisel (1904-1991).

Speaking of expats, another friend from overseas called.  It is always so helpful to get the view, as it were, from outside. 

"Everyone here," he said, "is thrilled you've elected Obama.  They feel it is indicative of a radical transformation of the American soul and spirit."

"But we haven't elected him," I pointed out.  "Or, not yet."

"Oh, I told them that," he replied.  "But they don't seem to get it.  They say it would have been understandable if you'd elected Bill Clinton's wife, that would have made sense after what you've endured under the Bush regime, but to actually vote for a man of color in a country that normally imprisons them, or at least the ones who fail at sports, seemed too extraordinary to imagine."

"We haven't had the election yet," I said, somewhat more insistently.

"But the war in Pakistan's already begun," he retorted.  He sounded testy, as though we'd been dawdling.

"We're dealing right now with the collapse of our financial institutions," I explained.

"Oh that happened ages ago," he said impatiently.  "Everyone knew that was coming.  Where have you all been?"

"Right here," I replied, thinking that things really do spin out of control without our realizing.  You get caught up in your own little world and stop noticing what's going on around you.  Suddenly you're Nancy asking Sid for the matches and you don't even notice the drapes in the hotel room at the Chelsea are in flames. 

Would it be like a jello shot, I wondered, thinking of the hand-sanitizer. 

"Right here," I repeated.