CSotD: Rhymes With Owl
Skip to comments
As a live-alone adult, let me say that Hilary Price has it all wrong in today's Rhymes with Orange.
Bills? Dishes? Laundry? No way those are keeping me from my comfy bed.
I wouldn't mind if something constructive were actually happening in that space between, "Oh, it's a little early yet," and "Dear god, how did it get that late?"
No, it's looking up just one more thing on Google and then one more thing and then there's a story linked in the rail. Then, when you do one more check before you shut down for the night, you see that someone posted a comment on Facebook that really calls for an answer. Which requires making sure you got the quote right and that leads to more quotes by the same guy and then some other quotes from some other people.
And now the game that you put on even though you didn't care about it is really close and it's already the start of the fourth quarter, so you might as well see how it comes out. And the quarterback reminds you of this guy who played for USC back in the day. Whatever happened to him?
It only takes a minute to Google him and find out …
I didn't get to bed last night until this morning but that didn't change the setting on the alarm clock, now, did it?
No, it did not.
I would add this quibble: I'm not sure the "living alone" part is critical.
"Aren't you coming to bed?" is a phrase the response to which is really, really dependent on how it's delivered and received. After all, the humor in the 1967 farce "A Guide for the Married Man" may be outdated, but the basic idiocy of the premise — Sad sack Walter Matthau looking to cheat on Inger Stevens — remains intact.
On the other hand, she's got this much right: Knowing that, over breakfast, you'll have to answer the question, "What time did you finally come to bed last night?" can be a coping mechanism.
Back in the days before home computers, when I used to sit at night bashing out non-selling fiction and ten dollar book reviews on a typewriter in a basement office, I had an alarm clock that was set, but not armed, for 12:30, so that, while it didn't actually go off at that hour, it did make a loud click, which was sufficient to remind me to wrap it up and go to bed, because anything written after that hour was going to be crap anyway.
I also had this Doonesbury on the wall by my desk:
And, to reinforce the point, this Guindon:
And it generally worked.
Back then. For those too young to have worked on typewriters, trust me: They're not nearly as distracting as computers.
Which is to say that, back then, shutting things off and going to bed was a matter of tearing myself away from my work. Hardly an issue, in support of which I offer this classic RWO:
Which is not only germane to this conversation but an excellent segue to a plug: The cartoon grew out of a conversation at Hilary's annual Open Studio in 2009, and, if you are within a couple of hours of western Massachusetts — and you're not so easily distracted that you forget to go — you can get a dose of her insights, humor and hospitality at this year's event, November 10 and 11.
Not only will you have an opportunity for holiday shopping at her studio and in those of the other artists who share the large former toothbrush factory with her, but she somehow manages not to eat all the Halloween candy before then and always has a generous stash for visitors.
Meanwhile, for those who don't have the excuse of living alone, a word about priorities:
Comments 1
Comments are closed.