PUBLIC NOTICE: The hiatus posts will end tomorrow, giving us a free horizon starting with August. I will explain the significance of that when August gets here. But just a clue, it has to do with the sense of the word August, its feel. Compelling stuff.
As for now, we're still in July. And while the hiatus proper has definitely ended, I'm going to take the last couple days of July to chronicle it.
I think this is very important, if for no other reason than to fill up the time between now and August. These last days of July are crying out for a little chronicling.
I wanted to put out some of the little known bits of trivia about my hiatus. But I don't really have the time to do it completely. Like "When did the hiatus begin?" Sometime in April. "When did it officially end?" The day before yesterday, whenever it was that it headed north. "How many words and letters were used in all the hiatus posts combined?" I'm not going to know stuff like that. It would take a super computer to tell us that, the likes of which man is not capable of inventing.
One thing I do know is "Who was the pervert mentioned numerous times in the hiatus posts?" That would be my ex-friend Garrett Al, who also goes by Geritol. He's obviously a notorious skin merchant.
What follows is a very special historical document, detailing my original hiatus ideas, projected as a 15-16 day breather back in April. As you will readily notice, some of these ideas actually made it into my hiatus posts; they made the cut. The only lacuna in this important document is "No. 1," which must have been deleted as I began. But an educated guess as to what it would have been is the initial announcement of the hiatus.
The document proper will be separated from the body of this post by a series of 25 hyphens, which will now be typed, after this period.
2) Reviewing where the blog has been, what's been revealed. Various instances of paranoia, which I call by some more benign name.
3) Encouraging those who were in contact with me, the newsletters, the real life visits; I thought I was a people person.
4) Bemoaning a couple of the real life visits, one in particular, the guy ended up in jail; whittling with him, whittling makes me sullen. Drinking always made Grandpa mad, whittling made him mellow. But with me, too much whittling equals too much thinking. Too much thinking means going down. This guy noticed that and pulled a knife on me. Going to whittle something out of me. Garrett Al (Geritol).
5) The personal strain that the blog has caused me, very dour.
6) But growth has been real, personal discovery ... heights previously unknown.
7) Well wishes that people have sent, feeling your prayers, concerns; no, I haven't got a life threatening illness.
8) No, I haven't got a life threatening illness; As for illnesses, yes, the olfactory hallucinations have been bad, but that's not the biggest reason for my hiatus.
9) Sometimes a hiatus is just a personal choice, without needing any further explanation. Then go on to explain it again. Might even go on a yearly hiatus. Johnny Carson took 15 weeks vacation a year.
10) What I'm doing with all the time now that I'm on hiatus.
11) Things are going to pot around me, so much time on my hands, still little to complain about; all in all hiatus is a positive thing.
12) Recommending hiatus for everyone, think of it as a transitional phase to nowhere.
13) Vegetating. Looking ahead to full retirement.
14) Easing back into the blog, feel the only way up is to get up, get back in the swing of things. Idle hands.
15) Relaunching -- announcing I'm back in a big way.
16) Dream of my sexy cousin, Jill Bob.
Several posts follow about my mind gone to pot.
I like that word "lacuna." It sounds like a car name. You could have it like this: "All new for 1966, the Plymouth Lacuna! [Whoosh]. Now you see it, now you don't! You know what 'lacuna' means? It means something that's not there! So whether you're leaving the beach after a big beer bust or dragging down Main Street, by the time the fuzz gets there, you're gone! [Whoosh]. The fabulous Plymouth Lacuna, 'Car of the Year' for 1966! Get yours before they're all gone!"
Also lacuna sounds like something a French butterfly might crawl out of. No more plain old cocoon, now you've got "La coona," but "la cuna" looks more French. "Coona" looks more Spanish with a touch of Dutch. Ha ha, a "touch of Dutch." That's what Nancy Reagan got on her honeymoon.
How about the great pizzeria we used to go to, "Mama Lacuna's"! We used to go there for a pizza and the kids loved it so much it was simply gone. "This pizza's a Lacuna and now all we have is a lacuna!" Mama Lacuna died so there's another lacuna. And they closed Mama Lacuna's so that's our last lacuna of the day.
OK, one last thing about chronicling my hiatus for today ... I totally forgot about my sexy cousin, Jill Bob. Her disappearance is a lacuna.