white fluffy duckies

As I get closer to retirement, friends have asked what I intend to do with my twilight years.  There have been times I thought about writing a column for the local newspaper where I end up; however, I am not at all sure that the Powell Tribune is ready for "The View From Here" that I had bounced around in my mind for a while.  Besides, I probably would have had to interview for a job, and that would have instantly killed things.

At least if I write a blog, I only have to interview myself first, and being the egotist that I am, there is very little chance of getting turned down.  About the worst that could happen would be if nobody ever looked at this aside from me, and that's not really all that bad.  I like my sense of humor, frequently laughing at my own jokes.  Yes, that's me, the weird, getting a little older guy in the corner looking at his tablet and giggling to himself.  Keep small children and pets away.  

I am not sure how often I intend to post anything here.  I do not intend to be a slave to posting just to say something, anything.  Most who know me know my political views that will probably become manifest here.  It's my guess that there will be rants over political issues, social injustice, and the single most important issue on the planet, the New York Giants, as well as anything that strikes me as funny.  While I will invite comment, I ask only that it remain civil.  To paraphrase my all time favorite columnist Stan Isaacs, who would invite comment and criticism over everything except his choice of the chocolate ice cream at Redding Terminal in Philadelphia, I will brook no dissent over the Giants.

So, what to call this enterprise?

The original thought was, as noted above, "The View From Here".  Frankly, I do not know why I moved away from this.  Thoughts drifted to something ethereal.  I thought I had landed on "The Long Walk into Nothing", but found out it was already taken.  After bouncing a few really bad ideas around in my head, I finally came upon the brilliant, yet demented idea of finding famous last words from a celebrity, even if the celebrity was extremely obscure, and riffing off of one I liked.  "Oh wow" a la Steve Jobs was rejected out of hand.  Also rejected, but not without a number of laughs, was Louise Marie Therese de St. Maurice, whose last words, purportedly while ripping one on her death bed were "A woman who can fart is not dead".  You can only imagine what the name of the blog would have been.  While any number of people who expressed undying love for their fellow man or their family was nice, people who know me would have been disappointed in the obviousness.  

James Rodgers, who was executed by a firing squad came so close, you might as well call him the runner up.  When asked just before the firing squad did their thing if he had any last requests, he replied, "Bring Me a Bullet Proof Vest".  The name of this blog, therefore, was almost "Bring Me a Bullet Proof Vest" or just "Bullet Proof Vest".  

And then, there it was.

Derek Jarman was an English artist writer and film maker.  I know absolutely nothing else about him other than reading that his last words purportedly were "I want the world to be filled with white fluffy duckies".

Mr. Jarman, this one's for you.