As I was sitting in my den, wearing my new smoking jacket and ascot, enjoying a perfectly smashing glass of port, I put down my copy Rememberances of Things Past (I find Proust to be so jejune at times but still diverting) and noticed the rain on the window. I couldn't help but think that I was like one of those droplets of water on the pane. Racing downwards, pulled by the force of gravity to the inexorable end of it all. But I was heartened to think that at the end of the race I would join all the other droplets in a sort of H2O heaven at the base of the window sill.
O.K. I watched Monday Night Football and went to bed at ten o'clock never thinking about the meaning of life or anything like that.
Seth...are you going to post the meaning of jejune on your blog?
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1 comment:
Atta boy! Now, let us try to find a happy medium. Not too droll, not too grandiloquent. You can do it, Chris. You can do it! I can't wait to read the anecdotes forthcoming.
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