the sad, sweet story of trout monroe
Lately I haven’t been posting very much to the Troutfactory Notebook, and I’ve been asking myself why. Partly it’s due to a busy work schedule, but I’ve begun to realize recently that it’s also partly due to the fact that in trying to generate the more elaborate and essayistic pieces that I’ve been trying to produce for this site, I’ve ended up writing my own daily experiences out of the equation. Since one of the things that I enjoy most is following the daily peregrinations of the writers, artists, and thinkers whose blogs I read on a regular basis, it seems a bit odd that I should have ended up keeping myself so entirely invisible on my own site.
My first idea was to start a separate site that would have been titled the sad, sweet story of trout monroe. This was going to be the place where I posted random photos I liked, short pieces of writing about daily experience, links to any interesting articles and videos that I had stumbled across, and whatever else might end up in the mix. I even went so far as to fire up a tumblr account, though after experiencing about 20 bugs over the course of two hours (and two different tumblr templates) I decided that I would stick it out here. Instead of starting up a second WordPress site, however, I’ve decided to incorporate the shorter, more personal, more experience-based pieces that I had envisioned forming the content of the sad, sweet story of trout monroe into the Notebook itself. I’ll try to post more often — perhaps even every day! — though the posts will be far less polished and far more desultory than the longer pieces I’ve been trying to include over the last half a year.
So, to begin with, two bits that would never have made it into the Troutfactory Notebook before the policy changes enacted by the new regime (all hail the new regime!):
A few thoughts from the Arsenal v. Partizan Belgrade Champions League qualification round, which I watched last night. First of all, one of these days I’ll likely have a heart attack while lying in front of the television watching an Arsenal game — at least if the current form continues. Every time Arsenal are in a position where they’re sure to win lately, they spend a large portion of that time looking exactly like they’re sure not to win and it was no different last night. Brilliant and beautiful goals by Walcott and Nasri, but a long 20-minute stretch where it looked as if they had thrown the game away. And what’s happened to Arshavin? He looks like he’s forgotten how to play football and instead spends all his time on the field trying to decorate elaborate cakes with his feet.
And a fantastic quote from yesterday’s dinnertime television watching —
I don’t eat. This is not a real mouth. It is an approximation of one. I don’t have an esophagus or a stomach or a digestive system. I am not like you — every sixteen hours, I turn into a liquid.
Filed under: daily life, personal, sweet story of Trout Monroe | 2 Comments
Tags: Arsenal, blogging, daily life, Troutfactory Notebook, writing