just breathe quietly
don’t make any sudden moves
I think she’s aaa-CHOO!

I’m stroking her back
soothing her fears and worries
must be strong for zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

An update for those of you keeping score at home: 7 weeks and counting for the “My Lovely Wife Is Suffering From Insomnia And The World Sucks Big Fat Camel Balls” Extravaganza.

Last night she asked if I thought hitting her in the side of the head with a large stick might possibly work as a sleep-aid.

I said no.

She laughed. And then sighed.

So to recap, that’s 7 weeks of no sleep — or of poorly-implemented chemically-induced unconsciousness.

And that’s 7 weeks of doctors performing at an effective level one step below wood-nymphs. And wood-nymphs are imaginary, so that’s pretty sucky.

Driving to work. My Lovely Wife has just been dropped off with a kiss. My hand reaches towards the stereo, poised to eliminate the noxious noise spewing from the local radio station that My Lovely Wife insists we listen to on the morning drive. But, I pause as the speakers emit the sounds of — what the? — Daft Punk? On Halifax morning radio?! Perplexed, I let my hand drift back to the steering wheel as the radio plays on. As the song comes to a close, I shake my head minutely, wondering who’s synapse misfiring allowed something other than AC/DC or BTO on the air this morning. (Yes, I am taking care of business and, no, I do not need you to repeat it over and over and over again, so please just shut up already). BUT… as my finger stands posed again to blot out the radio, on comes… Franz Ferdinand?!

Utterly confused with the lack of crap coming out of the speakers, I clutch the steering wheel tightly, attempting to keep the vehicle straight while the world goes insane around me.

And then the final nail in the weirdness of my morning is driven home.

My eyes focus on the pick-up in front of me. Slightly beat-up. Three young guys with baseball caps filling the cab.

And dog in the back. A rottweiler.

Wearing goggles.

And wearing them comfortably — nay, with a certain… panache. He could have been wearing an ascot and a well-fitted red velvet smoking jacket and not looked any more comfortable with himself.

Goddammit, that dog was a freaking superhero.

So, I hereby dedicate this day to be Wicked Cool Superhero Dog Day.

Mark your calendars.

P.S. As I try not to have my morning commute end with me veering blindly into oncoming cars, I did not have my camera readily at hand and thus have no photographic evidence of said canine.

Instead, please allow me to offer you… 20 DOGS WITH GOGGLES!

Goggle dogs. Making the world safe for you and for me.

(And don’t miss 50 Animals in Casts and 50 Animals Driving from the lovely and talented Ms. Collins, which succeed in making this post look cheap and tawdry.)

Thanks, Jenny. Thanks a lot. Just because you have a problem, doesn’t mean that you have the right to just willy-nilly spread the insanity to those around you.

What, would you just run screaming into a crowded theatre and yell at people that they JUST HAVE TO TRY CRACK ‘CAUSE OMG! IT’S LIKE TOTALLY THE BEST THING EVEH?!

No. No you wouldn’t.

But, it’s too late now. Flickr’s Top 100 has its monkey paws firmly in my back.

Even worse… it has an RSS feed.

I mean, honestly! Who can withstand the power of the Peppygnome?

Not me, that’s who.

Damn you, Jenny.

• You Can’t Make It Up: “Crystal Meth and Muppet Death”

Sesame Street was such a huge part of my life growing up. I grew up watching it through the glory years of the 70s — “This is near… this is far…”, “Would you like to buy an ‘O’?”, “OnetwothreefourFIVE sixseveneightNINEten, eleventwe-el-el-el-el-el-ELVE!”

(And the fact that Monsterpiece Theatre actually did “Waiting For Elmo” is one of the coolest things ever. Muppets + Beckett = comedy genius!)

Everyone on that show were are like family to me: Bert and Ernie, Big Bird, Kermit, Grover, Oscar, Cookie Monster, Herry, Oscar, Snuffleupagus. And don’t forget the humans either: Gordon, Susan, David, Maria, Luiz, Bob, Jon-Jon… and Mr. Hooper.

But… Mr. Hooper dying is one the the very saddest things… ever. So, of course, Ms. Collins had to bring it up. On a FRIDAY, no less!

(And I’m not the only one that sees this as unconscionable.)

Don’t watch if you’re not ready for blubbering.

Thanks a lot, Ms. Collins. I’m ruined for the rest of the day.

…

Other Sesame Street links:

• Progressive Boink: “Sesame Street: 25 Of My Favorite Memories”
• Screenhead: “Classic Sesame Street Videos”
• The Sesame Street Encyclopedia

And buy this book: Sesame Street Unpaved. It’s one of my all-time favs.