Thursday, August 21, 2014


August 14

Just starting to write this hurts.

It appears that I'm running toward something that looks a lot like a wall.

I know that I can make a choice between optIons of avoidance. They are all variations of stopping and changing direction, and their combinations thereof. As long as I remain focused on the solid mass which is the assembly of granite and mortar and, no doubt, a heavy modicum of rebar, there's a headache dead ahead.

But then, I hook a left: I've often wondered about something that doesn't exist any more, yet it still crops up now and then....

A long time ago, when telephones were tethered to the wall and all you did was talk to other real people on them, the phone company (as it was known in those times) assigned something called an "exchange" to all the telephones in the land. These exchanges were a two letter code to be derived from an area or region in which the local switching facility was housed, after which a pentium of digits would follow. (Area codes had not been imposed as yet.) In the midst of the MUrray Hills, the SYcamores, the KLondikes, and the PEnnsylvania 6-5000's; the exchange assigned to our little patch of the world was "AR". Some say it stood for ARnot Forest - a non descript point in the middle of nowhere, in the actual center of nothing in particular. Some say it stood for literally nothing at all. It was known as the "no name exchange".

Thanks Ma Bell.

It might as well have stood for Alternate Reality.

...which brings me back to my point, which is: I could just ignore the wall. In an alternate reality it does not even exist. Runners run through it on a regular basis. Writers call it a "block" and bombard it with words. A mime would just create a door.

Actually, now that I think about it, this is a picture looking back at the wall I just climbed over.

9,310 we don't need no thought control steps.

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