why won’t my parakeet eat my blog

this is going to be a complicated entry. I gotta good night’s sleep and picked up some discount energy gum during my 7-eleven run this morning, so the confluences are many, the associations are disparate and should form a diagram with symmetry akin to a Calder mobile. Please enjoy.

Google Trends is getting out of control. This thrills me. Today has given us a most enjoyable example of tail-wagging-the-dog. Actually, it’s not getting out of control but is being controlled by the masses who, knowingly or not,¹ agree to ask the same question. Good stuff, people of planet upon which we live. This is about as removed from the importance of this day, Veteran’s Day, as possible.

On this beautiful day, six degrees cooler and I would be eating bacon. Not rashers. But bacon. And so, I am six degrees from eating bacon. And this begs the question: why won’t my parakeet eat my blog?

Here are the connections:

Yesterday’s entry remarked on the passing some three years ago of Bruno Kirby, character actor and noted sidekick in the movie When Harry Met Sally. The heading “Bruno we hardly knew ye” put the words to a song of similar title, “Johnny We Hardly Knew Ye” to playing in an Irish-born reader’s head. Pointing this out, she insisted it had nothing to do with the post. That particular song was an Irish anti-war and anti-recruitment anthem, the tune of which is very similar to “(Ghost) Riders in the Sky: A Cowboy Legend,” probably the most haunting and least played of all Gene Autry songs. The thing is “Back in the Saddle Again,” Gene Autry’s signature song, figured in the “”The Making of City Slickers II” the movie about the sequel to City Slickers, yet another film in which Bruno Kirby played next to Billy Crystal.

Trippy weird, I know.

Oh, just wait.

Gene Autry was born and raised in Tioga, Texas, a town just north of where I live. I don’t know how many times my family and I had passed through that village on our way to and from a favorite camping and fishing spot before I learned this historical fact. The folk there are very modest. And a few mom-and-pop outfits serve some of the best barbeque in the history of western civilization.

To the east of my house, if you go that direction the same distance as you would to Tioga, you would wind up in Farmersville, birthplace of Audie Murphy, deservedly celebrated and heralded on this day.

Just a thought, or two.