A man, a plan, a canal: Panama

So who thought of that? Really. That's the longest palindrome I have ever heard. As I was falling asleep last night (bad dream about having asthma and overdosing by taking three puffs of some inhaler instead of two... too much VIA combined with too much coughing), I was wondering how whoever it was figured it out. They must have started with the "Panama" part. That would make the most sense. Read that backward and you get "a man, a p___", so that's a good start. But to work out the rest of it! Wow.

Next question: why do I get so caught up with certain artists or certain songs for periods of time? Today, for example, it's been Mike Doughty. I've been listening to his interview on KEXP repeatedly. (KEXP, for the uninitiated among you, is a tremendous member-supported public radio station based in Seattle that broadcasts on the web. I like the morning show the best ("on 90.3 with John in the morning, John in the morning, John in the morning...") and it fits my day in EST because although John thinks he's broadcasting 6 AM - 10 AM, it's really 9 AM - 1 PM here. You can find the interview and songs from when Doughty was there here. The interview includes all the songs, or you can listen to the songs separately.) Anyway, why does stuff get stuck in my head? And it's not even that it will get stuck once and then never come up again. Sometimes things cycle through so they're in my brain multiple times. Why is it always just one thing? How come six different songs don't end up stuck in my head simultaneously? Or is that what it's like most of the time, so I only notice it when I've whittled it down to one?

The one today is Doughty's "Unsingable Name". Stream it here. I really like how the lyrics fit the tune:

   I want to be your absolute ultimate
   Want to be your only one now
   Feel the rays come up from your sulkiness
   Feel the rays you radiate now

   Sweet and plain,
   Unsingable name
   That rings in my mind now
   That strums me like a string
   Chime, unsingable name
   Over everything.

   Beware the thrum of hearts in your presence and
   Watch the breeze that snaps at you now
   All the dogs that bark from the fences and
   Everything is wanting for you

   Smirk on the face and fists in the clenches and
   Make the radiator blow now
   Crack the planks and shatter the lenses and
   Mix the salt, the sugar, and flour

   Slushing, sleeting through the blue gloom
   Some long bell's lonely ring
   Chime, unsingable name
   Over everything

   I want to see the mountains in silhouette
   Want to split for Singapore now
   Want to see the mystery trees
   Want to hear the womanly sound.

   I want to see the mystery trees.
   I want to hear the womanly sound.

Circus tricks

This week, I feel like I was shot from a cannon on Monday and somehow landed in Thursday.

I've had my usual array of idiotic moments. Today's was particularly special:

Whenever we order equipment at work, someone official has to come down and attach an "acid tab" to it. (At least, that's what I always thought it was.) It's basically a sticker, with a number on it, so we can keep track of what stuff we have. Well, today, after working here five years, I finally came across this policy written out. And it's an "asset tag". Yeah. I dunno. Too much LSD as a youngster.

The whole thing reminded me of a similar case of aural confusion years ago. The big sliding glass doors in my parents' house were always "Florida ceiling" windows to me. Until years later, I finally realized they were actually saying "Floor to ceiling", which makes a heck of a lot more sense. I had always rationalized the "Florida" part thinking, 'Well, Florida is sunny and these doors sure do let in a lot of light...'