I have, as yet, not completely recovered my ability to write thematically consistent posts. However, having been reminded, rather sweetly, that absences are sometimes noticed, I thought I might ease back into the world of written communications with a few odd thoughts.
(And how odd were they, kaffyr?)
1) Is it completely irresponsible of me to find, lurking in the slightly skeevy corners of my heart, a certain perverse pride in the rocketing fame of Governor Rod Blagojevich? Whose name, I'll have you know, I've typed many times in stories before he was revealed as the delusionally corrupt marvel that he (allegedly, always allegedly until the trial is done, despite the tapes) is. In fact, I dare say that the mark of an Illinois reporter is the ease with which one can type that name.
2) Someone who was much less corrupt, and much more of a marvel, left us last night. Bettie Page had a heart attack some days ago, and she never awakened. She was 85, and in her time, she provided more happily vibrant carnality than almost any other pinup goddess I can think of. She went through some hard times in the years after her photo sessions with Irving Klaw and his sister Paula. But she was made of strong stuff, and she endured, and continued on her own terms. I hope that at the end of her life she knew how much she was respected and adored. I know I adored her.