bloggy dummy, Peter Sutherland's Deer

You can type whatever. Or so Nick thinks, in creating a template "blog posting for (a) dummy." (He is out of town this week, or has emigrated to Canada, one of the two). I am attempting to edit in html, so it's like...man, who the heck thought of this... but if I hit this compose button....ahh, that is more like email. For us dummies.

Well now, what shall I talk about? I don't have anything to say. I guess that is the purpose of blogs. Sometimes there is something funny or interesting to read; I know more about Sara Rosen now since her blog began than I knew in five years running. But what do I know; dummy.

My mom turned 70. We couldn't think of anything really good to get her in time for a birthday (there are vague plans afoot for travel in Italy—a prepackaged deal, you know, 'cause she's from the midwest), so we got her a blog. Sounds dumb, but we put up silly pictures and some bday texts; she was really touched. Maybe not so dumb; ironically we keep more in touch now with these dumb things than we did before.

Something so deceptively....simple, and yes, dumb, can sometimes...show you something new. And I don't mean passive entertainment, though that is what it is precisely for most of you dear readers now; but rather a means to see a side of something you never anticpated. Or a means of doing so. Not really too dummy.

So....ummm....wait! I have a new great idea: under the guise of seeing if I can get this linking thing down, tell us through posts or whatever it is you do if we should publish this book: Peter Sutherland, one of our favorite all around guys and one of our better selling artists (Autograf, Pedal), is also, evidently, a deer killer, and wants to make a book about it. I thought his Chinatown Soccer Club gear was coolish (he sent some e-agitprop about it a few days ago), and even thought about seeing if they needed any middle-aged publishers to wreak havoc at their games, but today he asked us if we would do this, in large format, like 14" tall, and in paperback. I'm not a big deer lover, so I really don't care about ethical treatment of these large bambi rats—they look like "whoa, there's nature in like our front yard!" for about two seconds before you realize they are the reason nothing is growing in your yard anymore, and they are slowly becoming like cows: Peter Sutherland's Deer.