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I wanted to wish my amigo Mr. T. a very shiny, happy birthday! He has mentioned at least twice that Saint Crispin’s Day is also observed on Oct. 25. Today is the feast day of the Christian saints and twin brothers, Crispin and Crispinian. Yes, if your first reaction was, “those dudes must be the patron saints of crispy snacks - Coffee Crisp bars, crackers, rice crispies, potato chips”, you are not alone in your oddness. Well, if you really must know, they fled persecution for their faith in the Almighty Crispy Snack God, winding up in a godforsaken snackless town in France, where they preached frying methods to the Gauls and made shoes out of thick potato skins by night. The world and the French have them to thank for crispy french fries. Then they filed for bankruptcy, got tortured and beheaded for selling a bad batch of oily, unsalted potato chips. Today, the faithful believe that if a Christian has received a communion wafer that isn’t stale during mass, it is said that the Christian has been twice blessed by the Crispin saints (twins = 2 for 1 deal).

Incidentally, Pablo Picasso, that famous dude known for doodling art, diddling women and dancing the bohemian fandango was also born today in 1881. Picasso’s work was often categorized into “periods”. For example, his Blue Period (1901 - 1904) consists of sombre, blue (duh) paintings influenced by a trip to Spain and the recent suicide of his friend, often featuring depictions of unwashed prostitutes, famished beggars and other mentally unstable artists.

Actually, depending on the shade of blue, blue can be a very calming, confident colour. Too much of it - very cold and depressing. It’s the colour of both optimism (e.g. beautiful blue skies) and sheer despair, hence the perfect colour of choice for the corporate world.

Click on the thumbnail image below to enlarge. OK, I “borrowed” the cute chimpanzee from Hallmark.com and the cake… hmm, I don’t remember. Yeah, I never tire of the monkey joke even though I’m not 7 years old.

Click on arrow below to play Happy Birthday Mariko-san song (22 sec., 355 KB .mp3):

Mr. T. is the only person I know who will answer, “I am within the range of neurotypicals, but do seem to have higher levels of anxiety than most” when asked about his day or his general well-being. “I’m feeling blue, the shade of Indigo” is just too trite for him. Recently, Mr. T. asked me if I was feeling OK. According to Mr. T. and a few other people I know, the evidence of my apparent mental illness is stacked against me:

René Magritte (MSN display picture) - strange surrealist, check
e.e. cummings (blog post) - misanthropic poet, check
Sarah McLachlan (blog music) - moody melodic misery, check
In Her Shoes (movie reference) - heart-rending, saccharine chick flick, check
Hiding behind humour - anything I’ve said or written lately, check
Incoherent, random thoughts - anything I’ve said or written lately, check

Well, sure, but that’s hardly enough to commit me to the psych ward. Sheesh, wait till I work my way through all 52 songs in “I Hate Myself and Want to Die: The 52 Most Depressing Songs You’ve Ever Heard“, load up my pockets with heavy rocks and then attempt to drown myself in a river. Or stick my head inside a lit gas oven. Or cut myself with a plastic knife. Or listen to country music or songs sung by American Idol rejects. Or repeat readings of Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar (yecch).

I’m kidding. I’m OK. Shiny. Fruity. Oaty. Right as rain. Uh-huh. Yup.

Last year, I gave Mr. T. a DVD of the 2001 film, Waking Life directed by Richard Linklater. I like this quote from the movie, “Thomas Mann wrote that he would rather participate in life than write 100 stories.” The dead dude makes a good argument against blogging, but I think the point, really, is that a person should have lived a life worth writing about. Yeah, I’m not there yet, but that’s not going to stop me from writing a lot of fruity oaty drivel. Anyway, again - happy birthday Mr. T.!

Adieu,

fruity peachy, uh-huh