Pete's Blog

Meta-Blogger seeks Beta-Blockers

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I think its the Spring that does it. The whole month of May goes by without an entry. In fact, I'm SUPPOSED to be writing something else, too. And nothing. I tried out for a hopeless rock band in Poulsbo, had time for that. I led a singers jam at Dusty Strings in Seattle, made eight bucks. Had time for that. Cooked a couple of barbecues, that was fun. And Bam! the month is gone. I'd been meaning to write about the term WASP as an acronym for White Anglo-Saxon Protestant and how if every other ethnicity gets to choose what terms are insulting to them, which terms may not be used in polite company, then I choose WASP for me. It's offensive. And I'm not Anglo-Saxon. I'm Norman-Gaelic, with picquant hints of French and Dutch. Still, "WASP, WASP, WASP." Once you state the premise, however, there's nothing else left to say. I think I'm writing like this because I just got off the phone with Gordon Darling, who talks like this. I'll see Gordon when I go back to New Hope in June, a surgical strike that involves back-to-back twelve-hour drives from and to Nashville. In the early '80s the novelist Norman Mailer tried his hand at directing a film called, I think, "Tough Guys Don't Dance." While doing promotion for the film's release he was asked by a young interviewer, eager to make his bones with the literary lion, whether it would have made more sense to use his time working on another book rather than attempt something (the implication plain) for which he had less talent. "You have to understand," Mailer told him, unfazed. "Anything is better than writing." I want ice cream.

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