MERRELL STREET. Prologue: Stockholm Cycle - A Personal Syndrome.
Digital Post-it About Last Night (A Fathers Day Fugue?)


image from

I know I just wrote a 'prologue' to a story and believe me, Meryl had a word or two to say about it.  She insists - via her very persistant publicist - that I post her response post haste.  And there's also a trip to Vegas and the Greyhound bus ride from Salt Lake City and back to write about.  Oh yeah, and shoplifting from the Mob Museum gift shop.

...But I'd like to take a moment to feature this fine fine photograph...

My niece, Leah, is another one of my all-time favorite people.  And I think you'll agree that even with all that goop on her face, she is lovely.  As for me, clearly I have no idea how to apply facial mask.  Which is part of my charm I suppose.

I begged Leah's husband, Caleb to join in the facial mud festivities.

"There will be no photographic evidence of such shenanigans," was his answer to all my pleeding.  

So for all you know, he did put on the mask and grin goofy grin with the two of us sans camera.  Or, maybe after he went to bed, Leah and I snuck down and applied the mask anyway and we now have secret polaroids stashed away for when he runs for public office ten years from now.  My contention to him is that a photo with facial mud can only help him in a political bid.  

"People will see you as human and laugh."  This is true, isn't it?  Maybe I'm wrong.

I call this photo "Thursday" (which you must pronounce "Thuuuuhhhrsday").  You get points if you can guess why.  

At any rate it maketh me to laugh.