Hello, green grasshopper

We had a big green grasshopper in the living room a couple nights ago. Naturally it kept jumping on Gamma, who currently has what I imagine is a temporary case of acridophobia, the fear of having big green grasshoppers jumping on you. I caught him with a dish and a  newspaper (directions: while grasshopper is distracted reading the paper, put the dish over him) and put him into the hanging basket outside.

The following day, I was going to the kids’ apartment in Vienna after work to pick up Gamma to give her a ride home when I noticed a green grasshopper on the dashboard. It was a different one, I think. It looked smaller.

Hello, green grasshopper, I said.

I hoped it wouldn’t jump into my face while I drove and cause an accident.

I decided I would catch it when I got to the apartment and put it in a plant.

But it was so quiet I forgot it was there. Also I distracted myself thinking about how, in the 1980s, my first decade of adulthood, I thought everyone was crazy who bought the idea that deregulating anything was a good idea and how the past 30 years have proven me right and regulations were put in place for a reason and why not just take mean dogs off their leashes and take off their muzzles and say, go for it, dogs? Time to put a little more trickle in the trickle down.

So my mind was not on grasshoppers when I got where I was going.

Also I was thinking about how blogging is dead, personal blogging like this, I mean, now that everyone is on facebook, only you can’t write the way I write here on facebook, at least I can’t.

I got Gamma and we were driving along and something green flew past and Gamma was all, eek! And I was all, what? And she was all, IT’S ON YOU! and I was all, what? And she was all, green! Green grasshopper! And I was all, oh, right.

It was on my shoulder so I rolled down the window and threw it out (we were at a light) and it flew into some trees.

In the direction of the trees, at least. Up, for example.

Little green grasshopper.

The economist and the monitor lizard

You know, says the economist, to be honest, I have to say the finance pages made my eyes glaze over. I was never interested in all that. All those rows and rows of figures. Maybe I studied the wrong thing.

The monitor lizard shifts a little, there in his sunny spot on the big slate tiles. So you were actually relieved when economics was eliminated?

The economist nods. It’s totally awesome now that we can just borrow what we need and not give it back.

You used to do that already anyway, says the monitor lizard.

Ah, but not to this extent. Now I can drive a KTM X-Bow to work when I want. Or, at least I could, until someone else borrowed it from me. To be honest, it was freaking me out anyway. Who needs all that horsepower in a little gokart like that?

The train’s okay, though, says the monitor lizard.

I don’t mind the train, says the economist.

The sun’s warm, says the monitor lizard.

Sure is, says the economist.

On the value of money

It is important to make children earn their money, so that they appreciate its inherent value. My parents did this by not giving me any, which required me to earn it myself via various menial activities, which prepared me for adulthood.

My first grownup bicycle was a Puch Bergmeister 10-speed that I paid for with the money (all the money) I earned one raspberry season when I was 14.

Here in Austria, a civilized country, there are laws prohibiting that sort of child labour, which necessitates other methods of making children earn the money they receive prior to, say, a trip back to the U.S. to visit their relatives.

Scene: Back yard at dinner-time. Family is sitting down to dinner.

Man: WTF?[Gets up, catches cat.] WTF??? What’s stuck to Louie’s ass now? [Holds cat under his arm, waves around something green.] Look, a hundred dollar bill.

Family: Ew!

Man: Who wants it? Gamma, you want it? Here.

Girl: [Takes hundred dollar bill]

Man: For crying out loud, look, another one! Beta, you want it?

Girl 2: [Takes it]

Man: Geeze, Louie, what did you eat, man? Look, another one! [Gives it to first girl] For Pete’s sake, look, another one! Here! [Gives it to second girl]

Family: … [Look at each other with a new appreciation of the value of money]

I’ll take the Icelandic economy for ten, Bob

The end of the world interests me as much as the next guy, maybe more. The reason I don’t write about it here is I figure, either you’re interested in it, in which case you are already reading somewhere else about AIG managers investing their bailout $$ in cucumber masks, or you’re not interested in it and will find out the hard way soon enough. Either way, I figure we’re here for the kittens, amirite?

I had a dream last night – in fact, I was having it this morning when my alarm went off – that a Turkish international economist had called me from Washington DC and left a message on my thin white Nokia cellphone (Finno-Ugric/Turkish connection! woot, extra dream points). Here is the weird, dreamlike part: The message consisted of a telephone number that would be “open” for the next ten minutes, she said. She read the number, and then, knowing I never understand anything people say on my Nokia, she read it again with a mechanical male voice. At least two of the numbers were in a foreign language, however.

I wrote them all down when I woke, figuring I might buy a lotto ticket today. I just googled the two words I had not understood. One turns out to be a Banda initiation rite, the other is a word in another language meaning pilgrimage.