Do You Know Where YOUR Towel Is?

Towel Day :: A tribute to Douglas Adams (1952-2001)

As some of my friends know, I’m all about silly holidays like the random ones BlueMountain used to have in their list. Because, who DOESN’T want to celebrate International Hat Day, really?

This morning, someone on the ComedySportz forum had posted a link to Towel Day, an annual event commemorating the life and works of author Douglas Adams.

As The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy was one of the first non-Trek science fiction works that captured my attention (largely because my 12-year-old self responded to the cheerful irreverence of the book), I find it fitting to remember the guy who wrote it.

So, my towel is in my CSz bag, and yes, I will have it nearby all day.

So where’s YOUR towel today?
C’mon tell me.
All the hoopiest froods are doing it.

Friday’s Feast 0705.25

Name a sound you like to hear.
While I realize that most of you are expecting me to say “rain on a tin roof” or “the soft sighing of my dogs,” both of which are sounds I do like, the one that is coming first to my mind is a little bigger. It’s the sound of an orchestra tuning. The way the strings begin with discordant tones, and then settle into the all-too-familiar A-440, the way the brass and woodwinds start out with breathy sounds, but warm into confident ones. It’s always so exciting, and full of possibility, and to me, it’s the musical equivalent of the countdown to launching a rocket.

What is your favorite kind of cheese?
I like most cheese, and it’s difficult to pick a favorite. I love sharp Cheddar in combination with crisp apples, or even sometimes with olives, or on sandwiches with roast beef and strong mustard. I like Brie at parties. I like Monterey Jack in quesadillas, with or without the addition of peppers. Muenster and Swiss are my favorites for slicing on most sandwiches, but then there’s Provolone, as well. It’s easier, I think, to talk about the one cheese I don’t like, that I actually don’t remember the name of, but smells sort of like caramel. Or maybe I’m remembering wrong and it LOOKS like caramel? (It might be Geitost)

Do you sleep late on Saturday mornings? Why or why not?
Sometimes. I didn’t used to, but after I married Fuzzy this changed. I mean, YOU try leaving a soft bed when there’s a cuddly spouse and two sweet dogs sending out alpha waves and psychic “Stay…” messages! As a child, though, I never slept late. I would get up and read or watch tv, or go play outside in the first rays of the sunshine. And sometimes, if I didn’t have a show and a late dinner the night before, I still do this, get up and take early morning walks, or go write for a while…though I then go back to bed after.

Main Course
When was the last time you forgot something? What was it, and how long did it take to remember it?
If I’ve forgotten it, how can I remember? See above and the name of the evil cheese. More seriously, I’ve been completely scatterbrained lately. I never used to be, and it’s frustrating in the extreme.

Fill in the blank: I notice trees when it’s cloudy. I completely do. It’s something about how the green of their leaves looks more vivid against a grey sky, or maybe it’s the quality of the light. Walking through such light is like walking on the fringes of fairyland and the trees arch to become a corridor of magic in my overactive imagination.