Mullets in Aisle Three

Here are three things I will admit to in this blog and nowhere else:

1. I am not looking forward to the day that John Updike dies. I check the obits for his name and I miss the man already. That said, I hope there's a few unpublished books in his desk that will see the light of day after he passes. Can you define selfish anymore pathetic and sweatier than that?

2. I daydream about flying a fighter jet, playing drums in a power-pop band and directing a film. It's called Ships at Night, about a young, callow naval officer who makes a critical mistake and his communication ship is captured by the Nazis. The senior officers are kept in captivity and tortured while the crew and the young, disgraced officer are sent on a humiliating PR mission around pre-war Europe to promote the might of the Nazis. They escape their captors and rescue their commanding officers and the damned boat too. They pick up a few refugees -- a family with a precocious girl and a mute boy and a young Jewish computer (what they called female mathematicians in the 30s) -- along the way and escape to freedom.

3. The last CD I burned to my Dell DJ MP3 player is Flashback: The Best of .38 Special.

Hold on Loosely, y'all!