“What you make?” I knew she had me, I had been found out.

“I was just coming around by the Rodenberg when a panther sprang out of the woods and knocked me off my Velo.”

“You are a Luftgucker.”

“That means my head’s in the clouds?”

“Something like that.”

“No, it was a panther, I swear.” I didn’t want to tell her I had fallen in the full dazzle of light, in a fresh rain-washed sky, drinking in the sweet air… when Hans-Ruedi passed and honked; when waving back, regaining my attention too late to adjust, I hit the curb, spilling ass-over-teakettle in a heap up on the sidewalk. Disentangling myself from the bike, I was okay; not even shaken, really, with only a leaking silver-dollar sized strawberry on my elbow to show. The bike seemed fine. I wasn’t going very fast. But Edith would notice; that was for sure.

It is probably not an exaggeration to say that the Coen Brothers’ “The Big Lebowski” has become well-loved enough to have seeped into the popular culture. It is also almost true that Lebowskifest – a fan-launched convention celebrating the film – is rapidly soaking through the otherwise moribund summer entertainment scene. Started in Louisville, KY some five or so years ago, the event has spread to Vegas, LA and New York City, its quirky charms winning over both fans of the film as well as newcomers.

I recently received this in my email and I just couldn't resist posting it here. What with all the seriousness around these parts regarding really serious stuff I just thought a little schoolyard humor would do us all some good. I think some of these guys may have been clients if mine.

Truth is truly stranger than fiction.

1). A site called 'Who represents' where you can find the name of the
agent that represents a celebrity. Their domain name is:
www.whorepresents.com

We took a walk upstream the other day, with the Rhine up to near-normal levels after recent rains. Following a period of record low water— and the reappearance of old sunken boats, and bodies long disposed of and forgotten— this was our first walk together since my return from the north. I pulled my sports shoes from the closet—the brown ones, still practically new—we’d bought back in December in Houston at the Academy store. I sat down and laced them up, waiting while she checked her hair, then we went down the stairs together. Out on the street we turned down the hill, then right towards the river, following the creek that runs by the Unterhof, a small restored castle and grounds. Refurbished as a conference center and hotel, the ground floor houses a restaurant, with outside tables set up in the summer months. The street goes on past a row of houses, with a stretch of trimmed sycamore trees fronting the river before emerging at the one-lane bridge that goes across to Gailingen. Past another stretch of row houses, the road goes through an arched passage, and on down another block before it narrows to a walking trail, past the swimming area. The Badi, the Swiss call it; they put a li on nearly every noun, a playful diminutive, the way the Mexicans like to affix ito or ita to the tail end of nouns. Across the river in Germany a similar bathing area is called the Strandbad, with heavy-footed, consonant-ending. In similar fashion, across the river the musical Swiss greeting Grüezi becomes Grüss Gott, or Guten Tag for Good day.

The problem of the theologian is to keep his symbol translucent
so that it may not block out the very light it is supposed to convey.
- Joseph Campbell

1. To have sexual intercourse with.

2. To take advantage of, betray, or cheat; victimize.

3. Used in the imperative as a signal of angry dismissal.