I’ve been auditing a class on heroic literature, but I’m finding it hard to concentrate on the current reading, The Saga of Grettir the Strong. A lot of it has to do with the characters’ names, for instance,
There was a man named Onund. He was the son of Ofeig Hobbler, whose father was Ivar Horse-Cock.
I can only imagine what Ivar the little Viking had to put up with when he was in grade school. Obviously he didn’t pass his condition to his progeny.*
While I was avoiding reading up on homework, I came across this: Maintain a firm grip on the book at all times, and use your pectoral muscles to keep firm inward pressure on the book. If I ever do that, Janet-my-personal-trainer will probably recruit me to work at the gym.
No, I haven’t gone back for aerobic yoga, thanks.
As I mentioned in my first Blog Talk Radio podcast, I love Lileks’s writing, and today he’s in fine shape, managing to come up with a McCoy Freakout Scale, a creepy shoe poster about Foot Health, and 24.
Lileks is Da Man.
This season of 24 has a couple of things that have me distracted: I keep waiting for Vice-President Tolliver to break into profanity. The Whispering President’s whispering is annoying; it’s a nuclear crisis, for Pete’s sake, raise your voice! And I wish they’d have more of the crazy First Lady – set her loose and sic her to the terrorists. They’d saw off their other arms just to get away from her.
I’ve been a loyal 24 fan for three years now, but this season’s not as fun as the others. After pondering the reason why, I finally realized,
Anyway, on the subject of shoes, The Husband will tell you I’m big on shoes. While I was at CPAC I decided that I needed a pair of walking shoes that feel like sneakers but look dressy enough to wear with skirts. They’d have to have a lot of cushioning, feel comfortable, and have some sort of ankle strap so the shoes don’t flop around because of my narrow heels.
This afternoon I found them at Ricchard’s downtown,
If you are considering them, try the next half size up from your usual.
I know, Hush Puppies are for little old ladies, and mary janes aren’t really my style, but I can walk all day in these.
I got them in black. They go well with my pocketbook.
Now I better go finish reading up what William Morris had to say about Grittir.
(*) The Morris translation starts with,
There was a man named Onund, who was the son of Ufeigh Clubfoot, the son of Ivar the Smiter
Oh, those Victorians…