Sex on the Beach in January

I know it’s colder today. And I know this is the Midwest and the only beach here is Lake Storey. So you’ve got to be wondering. Is he talking about the drink? Is he dreaming? Was he on vacation someplace warm?

None of the above. It just popped into my head as I ran along North Street this morning. I think I was actually thinking of some blogging tips I read yesterday, courtesy of JayRedfern. Get this, the blogger writing this stuff is 18! Anyway, one of the tips to better blogging was to put some effort into the headline. Make it an attention grabber, but don’t reveal so much that people won’t feel compelled to read. Leave ’em wanting to read. Duh.

Well, I figured I would be enticed by the notion of sex on the beach in January. So maybe other people would be curious, too. Prurient? Yes. Cheap? Certainly. But I doubt I’m dragging anyone in here kicking and screaming.

So where do we go from there? I’ve no idea. Well, coincidentally, speaking of the beach, I spotted one of the strangest things I’ve seen while running this morning. Lying there in the frosty grass of a yard on East Fremont Street was a little fish, a bluegill or something. I suppose somebody could have brought it home after ice fishing, but why did it end up on the lawn? WTF? Oh, don’t worry, I left it. Imagine the story it would have been had I brought it home and fileted it. Ha! 

But really, how does a bluegill find its dead self lying on a lawn on January 30^th? Did some fisherman decide it wasn’t worth keeping and toss it on the lawn for the crows? I know I shouldn’t muddle my mind with such mysteries. It’s senseless and pointless and a waste of good cogitation capacity, though in my defense it’s my day off and I don’t really have to do much serious thinking today. Then again, I could set my noodle to the task of conjuring a story worth telling. Never gonna write that brilliant sentence I’d like to create let alone a wicked short story or the great American novel if I’m preoccupied with the origin of dead fish on a lawn in mid-winter. Am I now?

I found another wheel cover today, too. This time I picked it up. Maybe it will fit Amanda’s car. The front driver’s side wheel cover on her Toyota Corolla went rolling off into the median two summers ago when we hit a pothole on the Eisenhower (I think) on our way to Chicago. I’ve found a few others, a couple of them Toyota brand even, but none fit. This one looks smaller, so perhaps it’ll do the trick, even if it doesn’t match.

Maybe I should return to writing about music. Muse upon the songs that play at random during each run. For a little help I can fall back on an existing playlist, one with a theme. But I’m no Nick Hornby, so I’m not sure if that’ll carry readers very far. Let me think on it a while. If I can get that damned bluegill out of my head.

Today's Stats

Temp: 33 degrees F

Distance: 3.85 miles

Weekly Total: 3.85 miles

Treasure: 1 plastic wheel cover; 1 plastic bat decoration; 1 orange plastic pumpkin bottle (cracked); 1 dead fish; 39 cans.

iPod Playlist (Shuffle):

The Reflex – Duran Duran

Alice – Avril Lavigne

Every 1’s A Winner – Hot Chocolate

When Doves Cry – Prince

Let Your Light Shine – Keb’ Mo’

Darlin – Avril Lavigne

Some Like It Hot – Power Station

Scenes From An ItalianRestaurant – Billy Joel (One of my all-time faves! And this is a great video - watch it. Check out Billy shaking off a cramp or something in his left hand.)

Walk Walk – The Call

Oh Girl – Paul Young

Better Be Good To Me – Tina Turner