What else can I write, I don't have the right

I predicted correctly: today flew by and it was a scorcher. It's still 83 degrees and it's after 7. I never made it to the office today. I got an early start and did some recording in Cambridge, took care of some business at the registry and Land Court in Boston, and then hit the registry in Cambridge again to tie everything up in a nice, neat, bow. And then, in the afternoon, I walked over to the dentist, came home, and practiced yoga in the heat. Like yesterday, I am a tired man. Is there not one of you who feels sympathy for me?
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Feeling tired notwithstanding, I'm in good spirits, like I am every single second of every day (Not exactly true, but remember: my heart is pure). The sun is out, the sky is blue, it's beautiful, and so are you (forgive my lapse into song, but as I said, I'm in good spirits.)I'm coming down from the all the Lost activity, even though I just riffed on the phone with Spira about it, but that's not such a bad thing.

Kate, because I just remembered you left me a comment and believe I'll forget to respond once I finish this post, I'll first thank you for the insightful feedback before I go about the business of answering the questions you posed.

Your questions (paraphrased because I don't have them in front of me):

1. Why didn't I address the possibility of more Lost?

(I take "more Lost" to mean movies, TV spin offs, that type of thing, so my response will reflect that assumption.) I didn't address it because there was so much Lost flotsam splashing around in my head that I simply forgot to wonder, at least while writing that post. I'm not sure if there will be any movies or TV shows/specials down the pike. I hope there will. If there was ever a show, especially considering how this one ended, that begged to be revisited, this is the one.

2. Who would win in a fight: Baby Boy Z or an ocelot?

Look, I appreciate the question, really I do; I've even considered it myself, many, many, times. The thing is, in order for me to approach it thoughtfully, I have to imagine Poochy Bottoms engaging in violent behavior with an ocelot, and you know what - to go there would leave a vile taste in my mouth. I've seen too much of Zeekers the lover, the renaissance dog, in action, especially this past weekend, when he got all romantic with Missy, the lovely greyhound, who is now his boo.

Here's the deal: yes, Baby Boy Z would massacre the ocelot - I am sure of that; he is very strong and quick - but what's the point of picturing him in a fight, with its attendant blood, howls, and growls? No, Zico is as gentle and kind as Santa Claus's gentler, kinder, uncle. I must hold fast to that image.

3. Which were better action figures: Star Wars or G. I. Joe?

Thanks for asking. No one ever asks me that. I have to go with Star Wars, if only because Star Wars had way more of an impact on me than G.I. Joe. The G.I. Joe action figures were higher quality, though. You could bend the arms and legs and the packaging was cool, too, with awesome bios of the characters on the back that got you all pumped up to play some Joe. I played with both, so, you know.... win, win for me.

There you go, Kate.
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I finished reading Drood over the weekend. I liked it quite a bit, especially Dan Simmon's writing style, which is above average. I moved on to Joe Abercrombie's Best Served Cold, a deliciously gory and often humorous tale of revenge set in the world of his prior books. I've also been reading The Picture of Dorian Gray at work and Meister Eckhart sermons before bed. Once I'm through with Abercrombie, I'll read Lord Dunsany's The King of Elfland's Daughter.
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I leave you with an anecdote from this morning. I was waiting for my turn to go through the metal detector at the courthouse in Cambridge t - there were about two people ahead of me - when the guy in front of me started acting like a dick to the security guard.

Even before it was his turn, this guy, most likely a lawyer or a judge, by his suit and disposition, started muttering to himself about how preposterous it was to have to go through this nonsense. It never takes more than a minute or two to go through this security check; I have no idea why this man was so irked. Well, actually I do have an idea: he was a self-absorbed dick.

When it was his turn, he walked through the metal detector, which promptly started beeping. The guard walked over to the him and asked if he had anything in his pockets as he applied a wand to him.

"Yes", he said, with a condescending sneer, "My glasses."

"Ok, can I see them?"

The man inched closer to the security guard's face. "I just told you what I had in my pocket. Why do you need to see them?"

I should note here that I've dealt with this security guard hundreds of times and despite being ornery at times (he kind of has to: he's bald, with a bulldog's face), he's mostly been even tempered and fair. Even if he wasn't, even if he was just a flat out prick, he did not deserve the treatment he was getting from this uptight prima donna. I think he's a decent guy, but he also seems to be the kind you don't want to piss off. I say this because I saw him pissed off this morning.

"Sir, can you please take out your glasses so I can see them? I'm just doing my job."

"Does this make you feel superior, screwing around with me like this?"

"Sir, just let me do my job. Please." (Uh oh - water's starting to boil)

"It seems you think your job is to screw around with people who would like nothing better than getting on with their business."

(Full boil. That kettle started to sing!) "Ok, you're done. Get out of my sight."

"What is your problem?"

Here's where it almost looked like they were going to throw down. The security guard got in the man's face, I'm talking no more than an inch away, and said, loudly, "I said you're done. Get the fuck out of here before I bounce you out of this building!"

The man backed away, but only a little bit. Less, I think, out of courage, but more out of a bloated sense of entitlement. This man looked like he's never, not once in his life, had dirt under his fingernails. Nor did he appear to be someone who considered more than a handful of people his equals.

"Alright, I'm going. Don't be surprised if you're the one leaving the building. I have a mind to report you."

"Fine!" He's yelling now. "Go get a judge and bring him down here. Have him kick me out. Go get him, asshole!"

Whew! All this went down in front of about fifty or so people. The man went on his way and the security guard went back to work, muttering about cocksuckers and assholes.

Later in the day, when I returned to the courthouse, I asked the security guard if the man ever followed through on his threat.

"I would have knocked that fuck out if he did!"

You know, I think he probably would have.