I get questions.  I get even more questioning glances.  In an effort to forget the latter, I thought I might try answering some of the former.  If it works, I might even try coming back tomorrow and answering the questions truthfully, just to try to forget the finger pointing and the uncontrollable guffawing as well....

     Q: So - did you survive the Invasion of Ankle-Nipping Northerners you described so vividly yesterday??
     A:  No.  No, I didn't.  I'm actually a member of the undead now, as angry and restless as anyone recently billed to pieces by web-footed fiends can be.  Fortunately, I just happened to find the recently severed hand of a Muslim thief as I was wandering the world, quite un-at-peace - that's how I'm able to take a break from moaning and haunting to type this....
     In other words, you twit, of course I survived.  They were just Canada geese, after all.  Yes, yes - all of 17 Canada geese, soaring to 22 in the evening when I put on my Ann Murray records and I hummed along like Lorne Greene, but still - mere Canada geese.  A British Columbian friend tells me that she's actually living a full and happy life with millions in her back yard, so it really shouldn't come as any surprise that a mere 22 failed in their attempts to storm my refrigerator and steal my womenfolk.
     Not that I've kept the womenfolk in the refrigerator since learning of their need for oxygen, of course.  They just like to scamper up on top of that appliance whenever they see me coming.  Go figure.
     As for why the geese failed so utterly and ignominiously in their assault, my friend in British Columbia explained it to me thusly:
 

The birds are stupid, not as stupid as a wild turkey mind you, but stupid enough.  They're migrating right now....droves and droves of them.  Most likely they'll be stopping over in Csharp county for a while to come.  But they have this thing they do, you know it, you've seen it, the famous "V" flying arrangement.  Leader out front, dutious followers in two neat rows behind.  Well, I believe they've plumb forgotten how to do it.  The past week, I believe, marks the start of "V" flight training camp.  There are geese aplenty in the skies of Kelowna (Kamloops??) and not a one, not a single solitary one has got it figured out yet.  These birds are everywhere, the leader bird is the only one with any idea of what's going on.  The rest of the flock (fleet?) are haphazardly clumping, clogging and bumping their way around the valley.  It's a mockery of nature, I tell you.  An embarrassment to Canadians.

I'm hoping, no - I'm PRAYING - that these birds will get it right before they make any more entrances to our southern neighbors' hoods.  Being responsible for swimmer's itch is one thing, mocking the very name of your species and your country is quite another.

     So there you have it. 

     Q:  So, what's Csharp county??
     A:  Wasn't that cute?  Wasn't that sweet?!  Attentive readers will note that yesterday I shared my insight that there are exactly as many counties in Ohio as there are keys on a piano (or at least a piano kept out of the reach of children).  I've spent the last 26 years trying to find out what keys go with which counties and my dear northern friend is telling me that MY county just happens to be Csharp - one of the best! 
     Music to my ears, darling.  Now can you help me discover a sure-fire way to tell my bassoon from a hole in the ground??

     Q:  "Kamloops??"
     A:  A place in British Columbia often mistaken for Kelowna, British Columbia by Americans writing email at dusk by sight alone when they really should be writing by instruments.  My friend teases me about this to this day even though she ought to be down on her knees thanking her lucky stars that I managed to pull that email out of a dive that would have put her town squarely in the Pacific Ocean. 

     Q:  Did you ever succeed in making friends with Sept. 10 - the day you so ignominiously tried to trade away?
     A:  Yes!  In fact, we decided to get together and frolic every September from now on, just like Ellen Burstyn and Alan Alda  in Same Time Next Year.  Only it promised not to get pregnant in the interim, and I promised not to save all my best facial expressions for the outbreak of a second Korean War.

     Q:  Do you really have a Whirlpool washer?
     A:  No.  I actually have a Frigidaire that washes, rinses, spin dries, and dispenses drinks through a little door in the front.  I used to have a Whirlpool, but I got the two confused in the process of listening to all those news stories about how our appliances will soon be connected to the Internet so we can A) Run them from anywhere in the world, and B) Know that if anything goes wrong, they'll call a serviceman all by themselves.  I just can't figure out why I'd want to run my Ohio washer while I'm enjoying a rare, goose-free day in Ontario, say.  And you know what will happen once we let our appliances use the phone.  Either they'll be pre-programmed by the manufacturer to call for service every so often whether they need it or not, or they'll be so smart that they'll start calling each other and plot to kill us all.  Imagine the havoc washers alone could cause if they were to spot and stain everyone's clothes at the same time.  It'd be the end of fashion as we know it!

     Q:  Did you really once write a story about a frog that wanted to be an airport? 
     A:  Yes.  Right before I wrote the story about the woman who spent her entire life waiting for a call to come through on a phone that had been disconnected years before her birth, and right after I wrote the story about the school superintendent who kept suffering from frequent dizzy spells and unconsciousness until he hired an aide to regularly remind him to breath. 
     Only seven possible plots, indeed!

     Q: What a second - that frog wanting to be an airport plot sounds pretty familiar.  Did you base that on the life story of Tori Spelling??
     A:  No comment.

     Q:  Why do you keep picking up Elizabeth Dole?
     A:  I'm not, really.  She's not the only one running for president who keeps implying she has a picture of Jesus on every wall of her home, after all.  She's not even the only one who keeps pointing to the personalized autographs.  I just know for a fact that she wants to post the Ten Commandments in every classroom, and this worries me a bit. 
     I've already discussed the problems raised by that "Keep The Sabbath Holy" line.  But that "Thou Shalt Not Kill" thing is a real concern, too.  Should anyone who really believes that's a commandment from God be applying for the job of commander in chief of the most deadly military forces the world has ever seen?  If she ever had to push that old nuclear button, would "Just kidding!" flags pop up out of silos all across the land?  Would she disband all US military forces or would her pragmatic conservatism settle for the Ten Commandments not being posted on the same classroom wall as Army recruitment posters?
     And since God apparently has told us both to kill those who don't keep the Sabbath holy, and not to kill at all, what the fuck, Elizabeth?
     Bah.  Wake me when the coast is clear in 2001....
     Just be sure to tape the debate in which some enterprising news person asks Elizabeth "What the fuck?" so I have something good to watch as I eat my breakfast.

     Q:  Any chance of a goose charging you today or is this entry going to go on forever?
     A:  No geese today - sorry.  They did leave behind their calling cards, however.  And from the dark, smeary looks of those, it would appear they used a Canon printer to make them.

     Q:  Eww.  Who did you say I have to sleep with to get this journal removed from my bookmarks?
     A:  I didn't say.  You'll just have to sleep around like everyone else until you get lucky.