Sublime

I'm studying The White Darkness again, which reminds me of my out-of-time love affair with Thomas Paine.

He's wondering why I've neglected him, but more important, he wants to remind me of something . . .

Tom: Rachel, it has been my understanding that one of the suppositions of this "blog" is to illumine the close association between the ridiculous and the sublime.

Rachel: Well, right, to "remember the sublime in everyday life . . ." I said I wanted to do that. You said the part about the ridiculous.

Tom: So I did. Clever, that.

Rachel: Very.

Tom: And your attempts at keeping a "blog," are they not, in and of themselves, to an extent, ridiculous?

Rachel: And sublime?

Tom: Hmm. You said it, not I.

Rachel: Oh, Tom . . . I wish you'd stop saying "blog" with finger quotes. You're hipper than that.

Tom: Hipper? Now who's hip?

Rachel: There's my Tom. So, your point is?

Tom: Lighten up.

Rachel: Fine.

While I was walking Parker to the beach today, wearing my "Eat More Kale" T-shirt, a boy of about twelve and his mom came towards me.

"Hey!" the kid yelled. "Kale, that's my name!"

The kid's mom could not stop laughing. I, lamely, said, "Oh, well, this shirt means kale, the vegetable."

"Hey, everybody!" the kid yelled to the crowds of people gathered at the start of the beach, "Her shirt says, 'Eat More Kale!' That's my name!"

Mom kept laughing. I walked faster.

Ridiculous.