I’m reading this wonderful book called Every Mother is a Daughter. At least it’s quite good so far though I’m not far into it, and since I read so slowly, I might nefer be. The subtitle is “The never-ending quest for success, inner peace, and a really clean kitchen.” This appeals to me greatly. Not because I have a really clean kitchen (or because I ever will have a really clean kitchen, or even because I aspire to have a really clean kitchen – well, sometimes I do, but not so frequently). I like the idea of putting all those things on the same line as if they’re all of equal weight. Gives an interesting sense of  perspective. Makes me think of in high school when I wrote on some type of survey that the teacher handed out that I liked life and green ink. The teacher (as I recall, one of my first male teachers, but it’s very possible that isn’t related in any way) found this unacceptable, that those two things could not go in a statement together. I think he lacked – what? imagination? insight? Something. I probably couldn’t think of the possibility it could be his lack then; there was probably only the idea that I was so strange. I mean green ink was a new thing then, and I found it exciting to write with it. Anyway, I think it feels like validation to see that on the cover of a book that’s bound and on library and bookstore shelves. And in a lovely aside, it’s been quite a while since I felt the need to search for some type of validation, so coming across this stamped on a book cover is just a lovely serendipity. In high school, it would have felt like grabbing on to one of those life rings rescuers throw to drowning people.  Though maybe it wouldn’t have been enough. I find it interesting to speculate retrospectively (and since I’ve discovered that even my hind sight isn’t 20/20, speculation this and anything vaguely akin is.) I’m not one of those who would want to go back knowing what I know now because nearly fearless me is afraid it wouldn’t make any difference. I have no clue what I would have done differently. 

I think that subtitle says so much about me, I suppose I have to stretch it a bit, but I stand by the statement nonetheless. To appreciate it, you have to be able to embrace and respect ambiguity. I actually find making sense to be highly ovr=arted and frequently unnecessary. People approaching each other should just expect ambiguities of expression and experience. Since e all come from places (using the broadest possible definition of “place”) then have different experiences and react differently to them after that, isn’t it just natural that ambiguity would be the way things are?

I think Las Vegas is a great ambiguity. Never thought of it before having been there, but now that I have been, I’m pretty much convinced that the place really doesn’t exist. Even with my lack of need for things to make sense, Las Vegas is a bit too nonsensical. Being in the high desert surrounded by more waterfalls than could possibly exist in the rest of the world put together? How could that possibly make sense or even be? Then if you factor on top of that being in a public bathroom and not being able to get enough water to get soap off your hands . . . Maybe Las Vegas is like Brigadoon (not in the sense of being a mythical Scottish village.  Just think about it. Especially since I’m pretty sure Gene Kelly danced in both places. Maybe enough people have to think about Las Vegas at the same time then their common thoughts summon it into being.

   God bless Hope for not acting as if I was more than a little crazy for trying so hard to get pictures of Barstow signs to feed some kind of Hunter Thompson thing Las Vegas inspired thing.