Salinger and Puzzle-Making Rockstars

My last post earned the grade of "Lame-o" from the familia. No more philosophical crap, I promise.

Where has the time gone? I'll tell you where the time has gone, sucked down the tube of witty depression also known as JD Salinger. Apparently, the man kicked the bucket a couple of weeks ago. My co-worker was appalled, I tell you, absolutely appalled that I have never read Salinger. Sure enough, I get into work and on my desk were a couple of his pieces: oddly, none of them were Catcher in the Rye. So I sat down to enjoy his Nine Stories, Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters, and Seymour: An Introduction.

Conclusion: I'm not going to read Catcher in the Rye. Sometimes I think he was so focused on how he was writing, that he wasn't really concentrating on what he was writing. And to be honest, I expected a little more from a self-proclaimed recluse. No really, I kinda did. You know, something that demonstrated an insane amount of time devoted to self-reflection, ending in some happy discovery. Nope. If that man had something of value to say? What a muse! But, according to wikipedia, he squandered all of his meditative powers on convincing women 30 years his junior to drop out of college and be his live in. What a man.

Final Analysis: Had the potential to land among the Hardys and the Lawrences, but flew past the James' and the Rands, and only ended up among the Chekovs and the Eliots of my literary good graces.

More news in the Jones household:

Alex and I tend to go through phases. One week its confetti cake, the next week it's putting at the golf course. This week is officially chess week. Almost every night we play chess. Did you know I was married to Bobby Fischer? Neither did I. "Bobby Fischer! where is he? I don't know, I don't know!" SNL skit? Will Ferrell? anybody? No? Ok. Well, rest assured that Bobby Fischer, who also recently kicked the bucket, is now in my dining room. Demanding confetti cake while moving his pawn to 4b.

And, because I promised long ago. Behold! My puzzle-making abilities!

What's that? You feel ripped off. Wait, please let me explain. This was a cheap puzzle. The sky pieces came apart: the back of the puzzle pieces, the cardboard, was completely unattached from the picture of the piece. I hadn't the patience to match the two. Here's proof:

My nephew, Dalen, is also wicked good at puzzles. Look how happy they make him. He put his 10 piece puzzle together in nothing flat. His aunt gave him a couple of chocolates as his reward for being a puzzle-making rockstar. All in the family.