Newsworthy, or Iceberg lettuce is 49 cents a head at Fred Meyer

It’s hard to blog about serious events. Hard to do well. This medium is best-suited toward clever observations about everyday things. It’s a weblog, not a diary or a memior. Entries are quick, fun to read (if done right) disposable and sometimes thoughtful and poignant. Serious events are best described peripherally, a backdrop to the entry itself that provides context to the meat of a blog, that is, what is happening right now.

When personally earth-shattering events happen, the same headline sits atop the site, rotting, the date stamp betraying the author for his inactivity. Blog silence breeds curiosity. Where is he? Maybe he’s finally tired of the sound of his own voice. Got sick of seeing his own reflection and not being all that enthused.

One of the most soothing feelings I can think of is looking at my cell phone and seeing that I have no missed calls or messages. I realize that my affection for that sensation might be a little sad, but it’s true. I think it may have come from working as a reporter for a time. A phone call means something has happened that you should know about. Usually something bad. That means something newsworthy to a paper, but having newsworthy things in your personal life usually isn’t a good thing.

I can remember all of those bad calls … We’re getting a divorce. I don’t think we should talk anymore. The tumor grew. She’s in the hospital. She died today. And two missed calls from two family members within an hour … always bad. I was in a two-day-long meeting in Chicago when I got the calls about Grandma. I was about to have dinner with about 30 co-workers when I called them back. And while the missed calls can be bad, they are endless in possibility. They never cease to suprise. This one was no exception, a real man-bites-dog. Grandparents should die of old age, not tragic, violent accidents. They don’t deserve it.

I hate this post. I fucking hate it. It’s not doing any of the things I mentioned up top about good blogs. But I gotta get something up there. It’s been way too long. I’ve kept this thing going for more than two years now. Clearly it’s important to me on some level. To keep belaboring the details, not lose sight of what’s going on right now. At least to stay occupied while waiting for that next newsworthy phone call that makes your gut sink, because why would he/she be calling me at this hour?

So I went to the grocery store this evening and iceberg lettuce was 49 cents a head. Can you believe that shit? But then the tacos I put the lettuce on were disappointing. I did, however, narrowly avoid eating fermented salsa. Strikes and gutters.

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