The thing is, we’re Canadian. So if we do badinage, which is what I think we’ve been doing, it’s going to be Canadian-style badinage…which means dry, dry, dry. I’ve noticed that dry doesn’t come across well on the Web. You’ve commented on this on your site and at Michael’s too. The problem is that using emoticons is just too damn broad. The whole point of dry is dish it out in the deadest-of-pan way. And deadpan just sometimes comes across as dead. Or even angry. [My default facial expression, especially when I’m tired, is apparently exactly the same as when I’m seriously honked off about something. I’ve actually angered people just from the way I look at them sometimes. Maybe my Web stuff works the same way.]

I’m actually fairly serious about this topic, Clio. I love reading you and talking to you because of your intelligence and very particular, individual temperament, one I don’t see often on the Web. You are almost the only commenter I bother to read over at Roissy’s, and sometimes even at the Blowhards. I’d like to find a way to be able to communicate with you and my other web faves with some nuance and feeling, and I admit it’s been a struggle to find the right voice to do that. My current tactic is to use (excessively, for sure!) things like parenthetical expressions, italics, exclamation points, ellipses…you know what I mean, and often without regard for their proper employment.

Dunno why I’m rambling about this. I love talking with the most intelligent person in the room, I guess. Too often, in fleshland, it’s me! But here, I’ve got all these sharp, smart and very likable people, you, Spike (for whom I have an absurd and inexplicable soft spot–Hi Spike!), and of course, the Delectable One herself. I also really like Michael Blowhard, too, and I mean like as in warm fuzzy affectionate feeling like.

I’d like to be able to reproduce in print the sense of the kind of sharp, fun, fast, but clean conversation I could have with all you cool people gathered around a table in the Village with the wine flowing and the good times rolling on, and especially how much I’m enjoying myself, sometimes just listening or reading (though I’ve been a fantastic gab-mongering bore of late, I know).

But…hard to do here on the Web. Sigh. I’ve said more than enough, and too little at the same time. It’s late. I’m going to listen to some samba-inflected house music, eat two cookies, then hit the sack.

Sweet dreams, Clio. And you too, my sternest of sisters and wisest of wolves. Good hunting!

No need to be jealous, Sister. Patrick would find me much too ladylike to suit his more, how shall I put it?, earthy style. You, on the other hand, are a perfect match in earthiness. May you have a long and delightful net-flirt. Meanwhile, I intend to stand on the sidelines and grin.

It is? Really? Excellent.

Actually, you could counsel us, you know. I’m sure I fit somewhere in that DSM-IV of yours. Clio transcends all categories, but so do you, so I’m sure you’d get along wonderfully.

[I can’t help thinking of the scene in the Simpsons where Homer and Marge go for counselling. The stern woman therapist (streak of grey…perfect detail; all women therapists have a streak of grey in their hair) asks what the problem is. Homer starts Homering at her, and without a word, she writes in her notepad, HUSBAND. I could see you waiting about ten seconds, then writing in your own notepad, PROBLEM: PATRICK.]

I’ll really start worrying when you put the H back in.

May my two darlings have the best of all weekends. May they have to retire the word, your weekends are so sterling. They’ll have to start saying, “Put a little thing in your week.” Or, “I live for the thing.” Enjoy.

And I’m really, really not tugging your chain, even with the second use of the word “cure”! The comment wasn’t about you! It wasn’t! It really really wasn’t! Clio, I don’t think you’re being fair here, or even trying that hard, either. (Confession: I’m also feeling very sensitive these days as I slowly come down from my t cycle mania, so please understand…I’m feeling vulnerable right now, okay?)

Clio, it pains me to say this, but you and I may need to attend counselling sessions. We seem to consistently cross wires in comments, without, IMO, any real need to do so. While I wouldn’t say “what we have here is a failure to communicate”, I would say we aren’t closing our particular communication circuits as frequently or cleanly as I think should be possible for two such verbally able individuals.

I’m partial to cognitive-behaviour therapy, though not in the context of couples work. Gestalt? Systems? NLP?

Untuggingly,
Patrick

Stop tugging my chain, pH!