Showing how with Threat and Pen, more is Effected than by Sword

Well, I'm finally hunkering down to the task of starting a blog. There won't be much in this entry; my need to express bemused frustration with the anguished state of English has hit its limit, and I have hit upon blogging as a means to record the many errors, mistakes, and generally humourous misuses of English that keep me sane in my year of community service.

Today's winners are:

"Kid seat free on Tuesdays" - local Applebee's marquee, which made me nearly pull off the road when I saw it on Tuesday and walk in to demand my free kids' seat

"Metaphysical supplies" - Listed on a local homeopathic storefront among the products they sell. When I first saw this over two months ago, my first question was "Are the supplies per se metaphysical, or do they help you achieve a metaphysical state?"

Having accomplished that recording, I suppose an explanation of my choice of blog title is in order before I give up on the Rangers and go to bed (they'll do better at home; I'm sure, because I've not been able to wear my cap, nor have my Rangers-o-lantern lit these past two gamedays).

I should hope that you are aware of if not familiar with Dr. Seuss' wonderful chronicle of fictitious events, And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street. If you're not, find a copy at your local library, because I will not do it justice here.
The story centres on Marco, a boy whose father always tells him to "keep your eyelids up / and see what you can see," on his route to and from school, but then chastises Marco for "telling such outlandish tales," and "turning minnows into whales." The book then recounts Marco's journey home from school one day as he attempts to invent a marvelous tale-worth-telling based on the mundane events that actually occurred on his way home.
Sadly, when he gets home, his father's less-than-enthusiastic (borderline cynical) approach to inquiring what Marco saw cows Marco into simply stammering "Nothing," elaborating "but a plain horse and wagon on Mulberry Street."
Without delving into the epistemological conundrums of Marco's imagination and his father's impact thereupon, this story originally made me want to see more - as I would later learn to phrase it, "to live deep and suck the marrow out of life," and living on a Mulberry Street last year has made me all the more aware of this.

So, I find myself thinking of Ray Bradbury as I drive down the many little backroads of Texoma, seeking for something new:
" 'I hate a Roman named Status Quo!' he said to me. 'Stuff your eyes with wonder,' he said, 'live as if you'd drop dead in ten seconds. See the world. It's more fantastic than any dream made or paid for in factories. Ask no guarantees, ask for no security, there never was such an animal. And if there, it would be related to the great sloth which hangs upside down in a tree all day every day, sleeping its life away. To hell with that,' he said, 'shake the tree and knock the great sloth down on his ass.' "

Now, where am I this year? On Doolittle Street.

Good-night!