Mid-June delights.

Just some pics of things observed this June, often while walking Mr. Dog:

Now a followup on the bird's nest that I wrote about in May; Mother Robin had her babies, and they popped out of the eggs. Here's the fat little babies all clustered in the nest:

But robins, unlike humans, don't waste much time hanging around. Americans adults may be treated as children to the age of 26, but birds don't buy that namby-pamby stuff. By last Monday everyone had moved on, and I took the this year's nest down.

What's this next shot? Some kind of flowering ground cover? Actually it's a close-up view of a tree. What kind of tree, I have no idea. I never paid attention to the arboreal stuff in my career as a Cub Scout. Where I grew up in the city you'd see the same oaks and sweetgums everywhere and little else. This is beautiful, though. You wish your pillowcases looked as silken and inviting as these white flowers.

And this is... I actually don't know what the hell this is, either. Someone's house. Or someone's ex-house. We just happened to be passing by. What a bizarre side door. 

Finally, here's a thrilling monster movie -- 22 seconds of the biggest slug I have ever seen in person. Usually our New York slugs just look like something you coughed up, and about the same size, if you had a cold, maybe. This sucker had weird patterns, and looked to be as long as my index finger. It was the kind of thing you associate with southern areas, where the winter is never cold and the bugs just keep growing to the size of Elantras. Here he comes, sliming his way out of his nice safe lawn and onto the street. Go back, stupid slug!

The movie ends abruptly as a shadow (Dog) comes closer to investigate. I didn't want him to eat the slug. It might have been bad for both of them.

So that's my season so far; hope yours has been kind to you.

The Hare and the Tortoise: The Motion Picture.

THE HARE AND THE TORTOISE

A Hare was one day making fun of a Tortoise for being so slow upon his feet. "Wait a bit," said the Tortoise; "I'll run a race with you, and I'll wager that I win." "Oh, well," replied the Hare, who was much amused at the idea, "let's try and see"; and it was soon agreed that the fox should set a course for them, and be the judge. When the time came both started off together, but the Hare was soon so far ahead that he thought he might as well have a rest: so down he lay and fell fast asleep. Meanwhile the Tortoise kept plodding on, and in time reached the goal. At last the Hare woke up with a start, and dashed on at his fastest, but only to find that the Tortoise had already won the race.

Moral: Slow and steady wins the race.

***

To: Aesop, Aesop-Spades Productions

From: Dolly Schott, Jupiter Pictures

Re: Hare/Tort

Aes—

Love the latest version. Notes from brass. Jerry's looking at Ferrell for the Tortoise. Any chance of punching up dialogue to reel him in? Don’t forget lunch Thurs!

***

THE HARE AND THE WACKY TORTOISE

A Hare was one day making fun of a Tortoise for being so slow upon his feet. "You big meeeeaaanie," said the Tortoise; "I'm gonna run a race with you, and I betcha I’m gonna win!" "Oh, well," replied the Hare, who was much amused at the idea, "let's try and see"; and it was soon agreed that the fox should set a course for them, and be the judge. When the time came both started off together, but the Hare was soon so far ahead that he thought he might as well have a rest: so down he lay and fell fast asleep. Meanwhile the Tortoise kept plodding on; when he passed the rabbit he yelled, “Hey, fluffbutt, watch me go! Wooo!” and in time reached the goal. At last the Hare woke up with a start, and dashed on at his fastest, but only to find that the Tortoise had already won the race.

Moral: Slow, steady, and wacky wins the race.

***

To: Aesop, Aesop-Spades Productions

From: Dolly Schott, Jupiter Pictures

Re: Hare/Tort

Aes—

Ferrell’s people on it, but now Gosling’s people threatening to walk because Hare’s a “weenie” (their words not mine). Can you make Hare a little more simpatico? Capiche? See you Ths.

***

HANDSOME HARE, WACKY TORTOISE

A Hare was one day teasing a Tortoise for being so slow upon his feet. "You big meeeeaaanie," said the Tortoise; "I'm gonna run a race with you, and I betcha I’m gonna win!" "Well, I’m just sayin’ you’re not exactly turbo-charged," replied the Hare, who was much amused at the idea, "let's try and see"; and it was soon agreed that the fox should set a course for them, and be the judge. When the time came both started off together, but the Hare was soon so far ahead and, being that he really wasn’t a meanie and didn’t want to run up the score, something his bully of a father used to do, he thought he might as well have a rest: so down he lay and fell fast asleep. Meanwhile the Tortoise kept plodding on; when he passed the rabbit he yelled, “Hey, fluffbutt, watch me go! Wooo!” and in time reached the goal. At last the Hare woke up with a start, and dashed on at his fastest, but only to find that the Tortoise had already won the race. They traded fist bumps and went out for beer, wisecracking as they went.

Moral: Slow, steady, and wacky is about as good as being real fast.

***

To: Aesop, Aesop-Spades Productions

From: Dolly Schott, Jupiter Pictures

Re: Hare/Tort

Aes—

Getting there! Marketing weighed in, says big race finish will move the videogames. Need more zip to ending. Possible title change. Said you were all over it, as always. Whatcha got for me, big guy? Lunch mañana.

***

CHOO-CHOO AND THE PHILLY FLASH

A Hare named Flash was one day teasing a Tortoise for being so slow upon his feet; his chugging motion led to his being called Choo-Choo. "You big meeeeaaanie," said the Tortoise; "I'm gonna run a race with you, and I betcha I’m gonna win!" "Well, I’m just sayin’ you’re not exactly turbo-charged," replied the Hare, who was much amused at the idea, "let's try and see"; and it was soon agreed that the fox should set a course for them, and be the judge. When the time came both started off together, but the Hare was soon so far ahead and, being that he really wasn’t a meanie and didn’t want to run up the score, something his bully of a father used to do, he thought he might as well have a rest: so down he lay and fell fast asleep. Meanwhile the Tortoise kept plodding on; when he passed the rabbit he yelled, “Hey, fluffbutt, watch me go! Wooo!” and in time reached the goal. At last the Hare woke up with a start, and dashed on at his fastest, but only to find that the Tortoise was close to the finish line. As they barreled toward the end Choo-Choo hit an oil slick and skidded out, but Flash stopped to right him. Then Flash fell into a well, but Choo-Choo pulled him out. They crossed the finish line together. They traded fist bumps and went out for beer, wisecracking as they went.

Moral: Friends are better than winning.

***

To: Aesop, Aesop-Spades Productions

From: Dolly Schott, Jupiter Pictures

Re: Hare/Tort

Aes—

Sorry had to cancel. NY office insisted on meeting in person. Ed says script is coming along nicely, just need love interest who believes in hero when all is lost (you know), another big twist, maybe a funny sidekick (the fox? possibilities). I said: Trust Aes. Don’t let me down!

***

CHOO-CHOO AND THE PHILLY FLASH

A Hare named Flash was one day teasing a Tortoise for being so slow upon his feet; his chugging motion led to his being called Choo-Choo, and his overprotective mother had always held him back. "You big meeeeaaanie," said the Tortoise; "I'm gonna run a race with you, and I betcha I’m gonna win!" "Well, I’m just sayin’ you’re not exactly turbo-charged," replied the Hare, who was much amused at the idea, "let's try and see." Isolde the Iguana defended the Tortoise, picking a fight with Hare, but she was a hoochie momma and Flash just traded smart remarks with her. Despite being cold-blooded, Islode was hot. Choo-Choo secretly loved her but knew he was too slow and shelly for her. Choo-Choo’s wacky pal, Gumball the fat fox, was told to set a course for them, and be the judge. Gumball, a natural conniver, kept trying to set out the course to favor his friend, but Choo-Choo told him not to. Flash’s friend, Louie the Stork, went to Croc, the local bookie, and put everything he had on Flash. When the time came both started off together, but the Hare was soon so far ahead and, being that he really wasn’t a meanie and didn’t want to run up the score, something his bully of a father used to do, he thought he might as well have a rest: so down he lay and fell fast asleep. Meanwhile the Tortoise kept plodding on; when he passed the rabbit he yelled, “Hey, fluffbutt, watch me go! Wooo!” and in time reached the goal. At last the Hare woke up with a start, and dashed on at his fastest, but only to find that the Tortoise was close to the finish line. As they barreled toward the end Choo-Choo hit an oil slick and skidded out, but Flash stopped to right him. Then Flash fell into a well, but Choo-Choo pulled him out. It turned out that Flash was trying to throw the race to teach Louie to stop gambling! Choo-Choo taught him he could not cheat to lose, even in a good cause. They crossed the finish line together. They traded fist bumps and went out for beer, wisecracking as they went.

Moral: Friends are better than winning.

***

To: Aesop, Aesop-Spades Productions

From: Dolly Schott, Jupiter Pictures

Re: Hare/Tort

Aes—

Bay wants explosions.

***

FLASH AND BURN

A Hare named Flash was one day teasing a Tortoise for being so slow upon his feet; his chugging motion led to his being called Choo-Choo, and his overprotective mother had always held him back. "You big meeeeaaanie," said the Tortoise; "I'm gonna run a race with you, and I betcha I’m gonna win!" "Well, I’m just sayin’ you’re not exactly turbo-charged," replied the Hare, who was much amused at the idea, "let's try and see." Isolde the Iguana defended the Tortoise, picking a fight with Hare, but she was a hoochie momma and Flash just traded smart remarks with her. Despite being cold-blooded, Islode was hot. Choo-Choo secretly loved her but knew he was too slow and shelly for her. Choo-Choo’s wacky pal, Gumball the fat fox, was told to set a course for them, and be the judge. Gumball, a natural conniver, kept trying to set out the course to favor his friend, but Choo-Choo told him not to. Flash’s friend, Louie the Stork, went to Croc, the local bookie, and put everything he had on Flash. Isolde, meanwhile, helped Choo-Choo train via a comical montage. When the time came both started off together, but the Hare was soon so far ahead and, being that he really wasn’t a meanie and didn’t want to run up the score, something his bully of a father used to do, he figured he’d coast the rest of the way—but he tripped a booby trap and set off a bomb! The bomb blew him against a tree, where he was knocked out. Meanwhile the Tortoise kept plodding on; when he passed the rabbit he yelled, “Hey, fluffbutt, watch me go! Wooo!” and in time reached the goal. At last the Hare woke up with a start, and dashed on at his fastest, but only to find that the Tortoise was close to the finish line. As they barreled toward the end Choo-Choo hit an oil slick and skidded out into a thicket, and was ready to give up, but Isolde told him he just had to believe in himself. Flash actually appeared and pulled Choo-Choo out. Then Flash fell into a well, but Choo-Choo pulled him out. It turned out that Flash was trying to throw the race to teach Louie to stop gambling! Choo-Choo taught him he could not cheat to lose, even in a good cause. But Croc took a hand to throw the race, and Flash almost was killed in a big explosion! Choo-Choo saved him by covering them both with his shell. Croc, who had been setting the bomb, was not so lucky, and was turned into a pair of expensive shoes. Flash and Choo-Choo crossed the finish line together. Isolde kissed Choo-Choo, even though Flash was much better looking. They traded fist bumps and went out for beer, wisecracking as they went.

Moral: Don’t cheat or you’ll wind up as a pair of shoes.

***

To: Aesop, Aesop-Spades Productions

From: Dolly Schott, Jupiter Pictures

Re: Hare/Tort

Aes—

What’s that in the air? Jasmine? Ammonia? Nope--that is Oscar I’m smelling, my friend. Call me tomorrow to discuss changes from Publicity, second-unit guys, Casting, some more from Ed, Music, and Makeup, the focus group thinks maybe the girl should go for the bunny, there’s some suggestions from the video guys, Gosling’s people are thinking maybe cars instead of running, Ferrell has some ideas for silly voices he wants to use, but Bay says we’re one explosion away from nailing it. We’re getting close. Shooting now slated to start July 12; reshooting to start December 1. Hang in there! You’re a genius!

🐢🐇🎬

Quiz.

The magnificent Anderson.

Last week we lost William W. Anderson at the age of 88; the world got to know him, however, as Adam West. 

When I was a little kid watching reruns of the Batman TV show on WPIX, I had no idea it was supposed to be funny. I knew some things were laugh lines, but most of the humor was lost on me. I was not a sophisticated, precocious child. I was a child who liked superhero stuff and colorful characters, and Batman had them all -- mostly the solid, stolid Mr. West as our smart and battle-ready champion. The Batman of the comic books in the 1950's to mid-60's was pretty much the same, no dark avenger then, but played straight -- and the difference between the character done as hero and as parody hero was not a difference a kid like me would get. 

He had a pal named Ace the Bat-Hound.

The closest I got to meeting Adam West was one day when the old Batmobile was in Times Square for an appearance on one of the morning chat shows. I could not get an autograph from the Batmobile, but I did get this picture.

If I ever had had a chance to talk to Adam West, I think I would have asked him what it was like to work with Curly Joe DeRita. 

Just to see his reaction.

The Outlaws Is Coming was the last Three Stooges feature film, which featured West as the handsome leading man, a year before he began his career as Batman. Coincidentally, perhaps, WPIX would later promote showing the Three Stooges shorts and the Batman show this way:

In a way, Batman had joined the Three Stooges years before this.

The Batman show had other things in common with the Three Stooges, who spent 23 years making short films for Columbia -- its roots were in the two Batman serials made by Columbia in the 1940's, Batman (1943) and Batman and Robin (1949), which starred Lewis Wilson and Robert Lowery respectively as the Caped Crusader. According to Alan G. Barbour's Cliffhanger: A Pictorial History of the Motion Picture Serial, "In 1965 Columbia released all fifteen chapters of its 1943 Batman serial to theaters to screen in a single sitting, after a series of midnight screenings of the title in Chicago had created quite a stir. Batman, with its silly stereotypes and preposterous scripting, was well received.... It spawned the popular television series starring Adam West in a heavily burlesqued format in which Batman battled an all-star cast of big-name villains..." Barbour attributed the audience enthusiasm for the 1943 Batman serial in 1965 to the fact that it was lousy, like most Columbia serials, whereas the Republic Pictures Adventures of Captain Marvel was not well received by 1960's audiences because "it was too good."

It's well known that the Batman show, like several high-concept sitcoms of the 60's, burned like a skyrocket -- breathtaking and done. Then West found himself terribly typecast, unable to find work. (A neat and painful summary of his lousy years can be found on the generally NSFW site Merry Jane. Note that a lot of other talented people were involved in some of these horrific projects with him, like Jack Klugman, Sammy Davis Jr., and even Adrian Zmed!) But then he had a wonderful career resurgence, essentially playing himself or a combination of himself and Batman, in all kinds of things, from Family Guy to Big Bang Theory to Meet the Robinsons. So we shouldn't feel too bad for him. Remember, "working actor" is generally an oxymoron.

The last thing I heard West do was a long interview on Gilbert Gottfried's Amazing Colossal Podcast in 2014 (check it out here, quick -- they're going to put the archives behind a paywall soon). It's terrific. West has some great stories and a great attitude about his career, and it's just so much fun.

As I said, when I was a kid I loved the Batman show like a kid; as a teen I found it an embarrassment to a great and serious character, and I believed people when they said it was funny because West was too stupid to know it was funny. As an adult I came to enjoy the show all over again, and it was clear that Adam West was brilliant in it.

And now we bid a fond farewell to our hero, Adam West. So long, old chum; thanks for the adventure.

Monumental game.

I was very happy to see Monument Valley II pop up in the App store -- the sequel (or is it a prequel?) to the smash hit Monument Valley, Apple's Game of the Year in 2014. I loved the original puzzle game and couldn't wait to tackle this one. 

If you haven't heard of it, the original Monument Valley and this one have nothing much to do with the famous Western landscape, but rather ... well, it's kind of confusing. Sacred Geometry is mentioned. In both games your goal is to get from one part of a gorgeous, surreal board of weird buildings to the exit. As you see below, the characters are tiny in the landscape, and will walk wherever you indicate they should, if they can. It will be up to you to manipulate the environment, using controls that lift, turn, lower, or otherwise change the environment or just your view of it. That last part is key: Like an M.C. Escher print, if something looks like it connects, even if it shouldn't, you can walk across it. It's brilliantly done. 

There are some improvements in the new game, to my mind. The annoying and obstructive crows from the first game are not present this time. Also, in the new game you're moving two characters on some boards instead of just one, which adds a little complication. Like the original it was not terribly hard, but that was no problem to me, despite the $4.99 price; the game is so beautiful you'd want to play it more than once. You don't have to have the sound on, but the music is haunting and unobtrusive and the sound effects can be helpful.

There don't seem to be any recognizable male characters in either Monument Valley game; the princess and her mother and other assorted people all seem to be female. I'd be a hypocrite if I called that a flaw, because I loathe identity politics and quotas. However, to be fair, I do have to say there's one guy in each game who looks like a dude to me:

The fellow with the eye is Doortem; he is a kind of totem pole who doubles as a doorway. (The first game featured Totem, who was the same but without the door.) Why do I think these are male? It's not a Freudian thing. They are described as friends but they are heroic servants, helping the princess and her mother move around, always watching over them. In the first game Totem even seems to sacrifice himself. Heck, they even allow themselves to be walked on. What guy hasn't let the woman he loves walk over him?

The whole story seems to make sense in a kind of artistic way; it doesn't exactly have a plot, although it does have a progression. There is a sense of loss and longing in the first game that goes with a theme of redemption; in the second, there's a coming-of-age story seen mostly from the parent's side. If you like puzzle games, or games that are just creative and artistic, you ought to try these games. And that's about as high a recommendation as you'll get from me.

Don't take advice from bugs.

Jiminy Cricket is an idiot.

Jiminy Cricket is, of course, the counselor for Pinocchio in the Walt Disney animated film. The character was in the original Carlo Collodi book, but was nameless and didn’t have much of a role.

The Blue Fairy in Disney’s version puts the cricket in a new suit and puts him to work. And he gets a name, too.

The two reasons I call Jiminy an idiot can be traced to his two big songs in the movie, “When You Wish Upon a Star” and “Give a Little Whistle.”

Reason number one is easily explained: When you wish upon a star, you don't automatically get what you want, and thank God for that. If we got all our wishes we would be unimaginably horrid creatures in the long run. Meanwhile, kids who hear that song and want something good---Dad to come home, Grandma to get well---will wind up miserable when these things don’t happen, and then they become cynical teenagers, and expand that to bitching about prayers going unanswered, and we have to listen to them whine and refuse to go to church. Thanks, Jiminy.

You betcha!

Reason number two: Let’s look at the lyrics from that second song.

When you get in trouble and you don't know right from wrong,
give a little whistle!
Give a little whistle! 

[Whistling's connection to moral decision making thus far unclear …]

When you meet temptation and the urge is very strong,
give a little whistle!
Give a little whistle! 

[No serious problems yet ...]

Not just a little squeak,
pucker up and blow.
And if your whistle's weak, yell "Jiminy Cricket!" 

[Giving himself some job security here]

Take the straight and narrow path
and if you start to slide,
give a little whistle!
Give a little whistle!
And always let your conscience be your guide!

Aha!

The problem is that not everybody’s conscience is a good guide. And I ought to know, since I’ve heard plenty of people talk about doing lousy, rotten things to other people and being perfectly at ease with their souls. Yes, I’m sure your conscience agrees that leaving your family in need to marry some floozy to “find your path” and “be the authentic you” was the right thing to do. Your kids will understand. Probably around the time they’re abandoning their own families.

But you say, “Hey, the conscience is said to be the part of you that knows right from wrong and is said by some philosophers and most theologians to be a gift from God. How can it be wrong?”

Here’s where two millennia of Catholic teaching shows us a better understanding of the human heart than either modern psychology or Jiminy Cricket.

The Question and Answer Catholic Catechism by the late Fr. John Hardon explains that our own actions and habits over time may cause our conscience to become corrupt, or at least unreliable. It defines eight types of unreliable conscience:

Scrupulous conscience: A conscience that is too timid to decide right from wrong, and may judge lawful things as unlawful out of fear. The hyper-religious person who condemns everything is a popular stereotype of this.

Perplexed conscience: A conscience that sees an act being performed as sinful, and the same act not being performed as sinful. Someone who believes going to war for the country and failure to answer the call to go to war for the country as sinful acts may be said to have a perplexed conscience.

Lax conscience: A lazy conscience that sees virtue in sin, letting things pass or deciding it’s no biggie. "Robbed an ol' widow? Hey, not like she's got long to live anyway."

Pharisaic conscience: A conscience that trivializes grave sins but magnifies small matters. Jesus knew some of them. A vegan who rears back in horror at the idea of eating an egg but would like to throw acid in the face of a Republican might just have a pharisaic conscience.

Hardened conscience: A conscience that approves of everything, completely corrupted by sin. Basically half of our modern culture.

Certain conscience: A conscience without a prudent fear of being wrong, which can lead to stubbornness and error. Those who see themselves as 100% saved by their faith can easily fall into this trap.

Doubtful conscience: A conscience that can never decide for or against a course of action, and may not act at all. Prince of Denmark, call your office.

Erroneous conscience: An upside-down conscience that tells the person that a bad act is good and a good act is bad. Basically the other half of our modern culture.

Someone with a scrupulous, doubtful, or perplexed conscience would never be happy on this earth; one with a hardened, erroneous, certain, pharisaic, or lax conscience would go forth and cause all kinds of misery with a happy grin. And there’s Jiminy telling them all it’s A-OK.

So you see, Jiminy is an idiot. Then again, despite his name being a mild euphemism for taking the Lord’s name in vain, Jiminy is just a bug. It’s kind of a lot just to ask him to wear a suit, let alone sing and dance. How can we pile theology on top of it?

Kites are fun. Damn it.

[Another "Best of Fred" entry from the old blog -- still a necessary curative.]

People who did not grow up with sunshine pop in their childhood can’t understand how weird it looks now.

I don’t want to pile on the Free Design, a band that cut seven real albums but never quite made it over the top. However, their first album, 1967’s Kites Are Fun, set the tone for what was to follow.

The title track may be familiar to those who watch Yo Gabba Gabba!, which did a cartoon video of the song, but if not, here are the lyrics:

I like flying
Flying kites, flying kites, flying kites
Kites are fun, kites are fun, kites are fun

See my kite, it's fun
See my kite, it's green and white
Laughing in its distant flight
All that's between us is a little yellow string
But we like each other more than anything
And we run along together through the field behind my house
And the little drops of rain caress our face and wash my blouse
And we'd like to be a zillion miles away from everyone
'Cause Mom and Dad and Uncle Bill don't realize

[Chorus]

I like flying, flying kites, flying kites
Kites are fun, kites are fun, kites are fun
Kites are fun
See my kite, it's fun (See my kite, it's fun)
See my kite, it's fun (See my kite, it's fun)
See my kite, it's fun (See my kite, it's fun)

[Second verse same as the first, then chorus until you want to die]

Hard sell, don’t you think?

This might be a cute kids’ song, but the problem is, like “Windy” (The Association) and “Up, Up and Away” (The 5th Dimension) and “Let's Go to San Francisco” (The Flower Pot Men---no, really) and many others, it was not meant to be a kids’ song. It was meant to be taken seriously by adults. (NB: Earlier novelty songs that were childlike if not childish---“(How Much Is) That Doggie in the Window” sung by Patti Page is a well-known example---were meant for adults, but not meant to be taken seriously.)

You probably would have a few questions about “Kites Are Fun” if you’re like me:

1. Who the hell is Uncle Bill? Is he a real uncle or a call-you-uncle friend of the family, or he is a weird “uncle” that should be locked away somewhere?
2. Why does your family have to weigh in on this? Are they part of some unknown anti-kite faction? “Kites? Fun? Disabuse yourself of that notion, kid! Kites are an abomination to man and beast! Gah! Destroy all kites!”
3. Charlie Brown never found kites to be much fun; you’d better take it up with him.
4. Is your kite really laughing? Maybe you need to adjust the meds. How do you know it likes you? It has not weighed in to date.
5. Wouldn’t it a really different song if they were talking about the bird of prey by that name? “See my kite, it’s brown and white / It saw a vole and took a bite…”

Songs of this type were meant to bring back innocence in a time of upheaval, when childhood itself was threatened with violence, commercialism, and media saturation. To which I can say with hindsight: You people hadn’t seen anything yet.

There were a lot of appeals in those days for the good old-fashioned fun of yoyos and wooden cars and jacks and other toys that didn’t make noises and break easily and weren’t made of plastic. Sites like Tin Toy Arcade aside, I haven’t seen many of those appeals to innocent toys in the last twenty-plus years. I suggest it’s because people my age knew that sagging feeling of disappointment when, instead of getting a Commando Jim doll with Kung-Fu Kick and Submarine Base Play Set, you got a set of pick-up sticks and a ball. They remember, and they want to give their kids the plastic noisy crap that the kids want.

However, I have to agree with the song that kites are fun. I remember flying some with my dad decades ago by the ocean. The wind was unbelievable. The kites threatened to rip right out of our hands, until they actually did. When I last saw my kite it was heading toward Pennsylvania at a good clip.

But it was fun.

And although I doubt the green and white kite has made its feelings known, I admit that it is fun to be a kite. I went parasailing some years back in the Caribbean and the view was breathtaking. Of course, I thought I was going to die every minute, and I missed the boat and landed in the water on the way down, but I got booze afterward so it was okay.

Had I thought of the song at the time, the first words out of my mouth upon returning to shore would have been, “I like drinking, drinking, drinking booze! Booze is fun!”

At this point in my life, though, I'd rather have the kite.