My Little Golden Book of Phobias

Last night I sang with 600 people, many of them children. It was a blast. We are singing for the Dalai Lama in a week. At Quest field. In front of 40,000 people. Last night, our intrepid leader tried to get us to learn a new song. I don't think this is a good idea. I have learned the songs we are singing for now and another song will throw me off, will throw me down. I can't learn new songs like that. My right ear rings all the time, I have memory issues, the song was too high a register and too show-tuney even though I think HHDL won't care a whit. He will just probably smile at us because the children are so funny with their missing teeth and squirming and nose picking. I watched one girl, about 10 years old, actually take off her shirt underneath her dress, like you take off a bra while driving, dislocating your shoulders and then pulling the bra out from a sleeve, ta-da, with a flourish. And she was standing on stage, in front of all the adults. Insouciant, I say. She has a future in showbiz, don't you think.

Today I delivered a baby and drank celebratory Scotch at 4 this afternoon. 15 year old Glenfiddich. Some day I am going to the Oban distillery to see their barrels or whatever it is they distill Scotch in. I love Scotch and I rarely drink it because we could go right down the tubes together, Scotch and I. Occasionally I act mature.

I couldn't get out of jury duty. I am going to take my knitting and some good snacks and a notebook and write public safety building poems. Sonnets.

If I stopped eating everything that has corn syrup in it, would that be unpatriotic? Just wondering.