no excuse not to pay your nanny tax!

There's an entire company devoted to helping people pay their nanny taxes.

Direct to you from the men's room wall in the Thunderbird Cafe, Austin TX:

Infant tweet: OMG, I just got born!!

30 minutes later: I miss my umbilical cord!:(((((

No, Not Yet

A twelve-year-old is singing along with "Title and Registration" by Death Cab for Cutie:

...where disappointment and regret collide
Lying awake at night...

"Do you have regrets, Agent 97?"

"No."

Ah!

Nice Description

Someone once called my work "beautiful but not important." What a perfect description of this world!

Nameless Mass

I like the title Missa Sine Nomine, by Josquin des Prez (c.1450-1521).

Heard Around the House, So I'll Steal It

“An empty muffin case of a man.” Old, empty, used up, disposable, and crummy, its only value being as a momentary reminder of past sweetness.

What think'st thou the difference, then, 'twixt friendship and love?

Love demands; friendship requests.

A lot of this stuff is less autobiographical than it seems. Some of it, anyway.

For instance, I don't think every person is an equation. In fact I know a couple of marriages in which the woman cares about equations and the man cares about songs.

I think every equation is a song.

Point of Agreement

He thinks every person is an equation. She thinks every person is a song.

They both think every couple is a war.

How To Tell Your Story

"...if you don't find a way of telling your own story, someone else will. And it will probably be a mangled version."

from Teju Cole at Modal Minority.

Hatch Your Heart

"Could it be that my heart, finally, is hatching, after so many years inside the shell it grew around itself? Is this possible, so late in life?"

From Jean at This Too.

Wrong Turn

Just now coming back from driving the kids to school, it happened for the first time ever: I turned onto the block where I used to live rather than the bachelor rental a quarter-mile away where I'm living now. The lights were off, the shades were down, the car was in the driveway. Well, one time in almost four months, that's not bad. Anyway I was distracted by something else as I drove: I was writing. And as I reached the corner I started writing this.

Offspring of the Famous

Here's a really nice article about a famous writer's son who achieved literary success on his own, practicing his craft for years, suffering the rejections that come with the territory, even changing his name in order not to use it for advantage -- because he understood that it would hurt him as a writer to do so. I admire this young man, and I'm eager to read his book.

In contrast...

PS: An agent or publisher would be crazy not to let Joe Hill's cat out of the bag, and the Times article hints that that may have happened. But based on the information presented, I believe that Hill tried his best not to capitalize on his father's fame. And I don't even think he would have been wrong to capitalize on it -- I would have, in his place. That makes him stronger than most of us.