CALL ME SNAKE

This just in from Nature, the world's leading science journal: "No audience for your blog? No problem. A U.S. company will beam postings to outer space for extraterrestrials to read." This comes as great news for me, as I have long thought of ways of broadening my readership. How about the cache of having readers on Alpha Centauri and Vega? Who knows? One day Call Me Snake might become the first intergalactic blog in history and the longest "link" ever established. If you're out there ET, listen up: The Snake is coming at you. You'll soon have the chance to read the latest updates on the ever-fascinating Antoine Walker saga.

Three weeks have passed since our last Bumper Sticker contest. I've just finished sifting through all those old entries, so I guess it's time now for the latest BLOGGING BUMPER STICK SWEEPSTAKES. Here are the first five candidates (in what will undoubtedly prove to be a crowded and illustrious field), written by none other than yours truly, the Snakemeister himself.

1. BIG BLOGGER IS WATCHING YOU.

2. DON'T LOOK NOW. YOU'RE BEING BLOGGED.

3. "THE BLOGGING BEGINS IN 5 MINUTES." --Ronald Reagan

4. ONE BLOG AT A TIME.

5. I WENT ONLINE TO BUY A T-SHIRT. ALL I GOT WAS THIS LOUSY BLOG.

Send in your entries today! Our judges are relaxing in Barbados now, with nothing to do but sip their pina coladas and wait for the deluge of blogging bumper sticker ideas to pour in. Early submissions will get special attention, so don't delay! This could be your chance for glory--your 15 seconds of fame.

If you believe People Magazine (and I only know about this because I still have AOL for another two weeks before they cut me off for good), Jude Law still has some explaining and, more importantly, apologizing to do. I said before that Jude could set things right with his fiance through the use of a single word: "Sorry." But if the People story is right--and when have they ever been anything less than truthful?--he might have to use that single word quite a few times or, better yet, incorporate it into a complex sentence as in: "Sorry I had an alleged affair with the exotic dancer in Chicago, who is OK as exotic dancers go but otherwise full of crap." Or: "Sorry people (or rather People) are suggesting my ex-wife and I engaged in wife-swapping--a patent falsehood that I haven't yet tried, though it sounds like it might be fun if things ever get dull around here, which, of course, they never will--not with you, Sweetie!" He's free to use these lines if he wishes, and I'm happy to suggest other surefire lines as well. I'll even throw in an original, "can't miss," blogger bumper sticker line or two for him to try out, as I seem to have an inexhaustible supply of those. But that's the subject of another post, so I'm going to sign off here and end with a preemptive "sorry" to cover any lapses I might have between now and our next chat.

I was passing through Harvard Square today, trying to get my kid to camp (late, as usual), when I was accosted by a man bearing a placard that read: "YOU MUST CONVERT TO BORN AGAIN CHRISTIAN OR YOU WILL BURN IN HELL." I thanked him for the information and told him I'd try to keep it in mind.

My last post was devoted to people who read this blog, or at least have done so on occasion. This is a tribute to people who, for whatever reason, do not read "Call Me Snake."

People who do not read this blog constitute:

• an internationally-diverse group... (I have good friends in England, France, Switzerland, China, Thailand, and Africa [I'd like to be more specific but the exact country escapes me at the moment] and, to their credit, none of them read "Call Me Snake." Not a one.)

• world leaders and opinion shapers. To the best of my knowledge, none of the people who read "Call Me Snake" quailify in that category.

That's all I can think of for now. Which must mean everyone else is reading "Call Me Snake." Sign on now! Avoid the rush!

I've heard grumblings in some quarters that this blog is too much about me. For once I'd like to put the focus on you. That's right, YOU. Don't look so surprised. This is a new me talking here. And the "How Are Ya'" blogs are soon to become a new feature at Call Me Snake. (We like to introduce "new features" here, and we do that all the time, though some might say we've been a little weak on the follow-up. But enough on that. Let's get the focus back on you, where it belongs. Just where I said it would be...)

Dr. Max (see link on right), AFOCMS (which is a pithy acronym for A Friend Of Call Me Snake), often starts his posts with a rhetorical question: How is everbody doing? That strategy is so effective for him that I thought I'd try the same: How IS everbody doing? REALLY? You're all fine? Well that's great. Just great. Wish I could say the same. That things are great, I mean. But they're not. Not that things are BAD. It's not as bad as all that by any means. Basically, I'm fine. Just getting by. You know, one blog at a time and that sort of thing.

If I were one to complain, and I'm not, I might mention something about the weather. The heat part of it, that is. It sure can get to you, around here I mean, what with the temperature being what it is. And what it is is hot. Not to mention the humidity. And dewpoint and relative humidity and the rest of it. But don't get me started. Like I said before, I''m not complaining and I ain't bellyachin' either.

Anyways, I'm glad to hear that everyone is doing so well. Keep it up, folks! You're amazing--an inspiration to the rest of us. I've always said I couldn't do it without you. I didn't necessarily believe that, but I said it all the same. And now I think it might possibly be true.

Yesterday, while working on a treatise about flying squirrels, I needed more information about their wing tips and did the obvious thing--typed in "flying squirrels" and "wing tips" on Google. I checked out many of the results, one of which led me to a porno site featuring "big natural breasts." That was a shocker that pretty much killed my whole workday. I mean how can a fellow--who's just minding his own business, not looking for any trouble--concentrate on the subtleties of gliding biomechanics with all those giant breasts popping up all over the place? I've been traumatized ever since and things have gotten so bad, I've contemplated looking for another search engine. Does anyone have any advice? Perhaps I'll ask my friend Jeeves, who's always helpful in matters like these.

The story line in "The Magnificent Ambersons," the 1942 film classic by Orson Welles, revolves around George Amberson Minafer and how he gets his "comeuppance." I'd always considered it an entertaining tale until I too--like bad boy Georgie before me--got my comeuppance.

It happened yesterday, when I was least expecting it. There I was, feeling smug and self-satisfied--having a great day in other words. The weather outside was perfect--a dry, sunny, and breezy 80 degrees. Though I was chained to my desk, writing about flying squirrels, I did not mind. Then I got some email, a new comment from blog.com. I opened it eagerly--a welcome distraction from my manuscript--expecting the usual laudatory remark. Instead I got--I got my comeuppance is what I got.

The writer Lisa let me know I was a callous cad badly in need of humility. My only hope, she said was volunteer work, preferably with children or homeless people. OK, well, I suppose everyone's entitled to their opinions. I didn't ask for it, but there it was. And frankly it bothered me. I'm sure we all could stand to do more in the way of volunteer work, but why was I, of all people, singled out for this public-service assignment, when I could think of plenty of others more in need of salvation?

Maybe it was a harmless prank sent by some kids out for a laugh. Or maybe this Lisa is for real--someone who stumbled upon my blog and felt a powerful urge to dress me down in public, on my home turf. I guess I'll never know unless Lisa surfaces again and decides to explain why she reacted so strongly to words intended to be humorous or moderately amusing at the very least.

I should have gotten to this days ago but, what can I say, I've had a busy week. Besides, this isn't a newspaper, so I have the luxury of getting to things when I have the chance. (Too much other important news to report on, such as the lustful thoughts that might arise in the produce department of a high-end grocery store.) For those folks who tell me this blog is their "primary source of news"--a scary notion I try to discourage, as it puts too much pressure on me and I don't respond well to pressure--I can only say "sorry," a word I'm trying to bring back into common parlance. Go ahead, try it sometime.

But getting back to the news: The item in question occurred earlier this week when Massachusetts governor Mitt Romney took a ride on the "T"--Boston's famed subway system--to show that it was still safe after the London incidents and that he was a regular guy to boot. He failed miserably on both scores. On the safety front, Romney was accosted by the so-called "Cat Lady" who screamed, "You killed my cats," before transit police dragged her away.

Mitt was a bust on the "regular guy" front as well--always a tough act for him to pull off, given his monthly expenditures on makeup and hair gel. When asked by reporters how much the T costs, he said "a buck," not realizing the cost has been $1.25 for more than a year and a half. Nor could he remember the last time he ventured into Boston's famed subway system as part of another failed publicity stunt, no doubt.

There is, of course, a song (made famous by the Kingston Trio) about a man who took a ride on a Boston subway and never returned. The man in the song is called Charlie, but it would be OK with me if he was named Mitt.

It happens to the best of us. Shopping in the overpriced grocery story that I frequent (yet can't afford), it is possible--say while browsing through the produce department (a well-known pickup spot)--to have impure thoughts. The same kind of thoughts that former president Jimmy Carter ("I've looked on a lot of women with lust") is now famous for, perhaps more famous than for anything he did as president. In some circles, Bill Clinton was considered a sleazeball for having "relations" with a White House aide (and wouldn't we all like "aides" like that?), as he discussed world affairs over the telephone with other heads of state. When caught after the fact, Clinton explained his transgression this way: "I did it for the worst possible reason, because I could." I, on the other hand, didn't do it for the worst possible reason: because I couldn't. Does that make me the better person?