Life is like a box of Cheez-Its

Today was a great day, a Saturday of good momentum. I got up early and cleaned the bathroom, read a while, took a nap, went out for breakfast, to the Pig N' Pancake at 122nd and Glisan. I always suffer from food envy when I go out to breakfast. I'll order something and then a plate goes by and I think, oh man, that looks good, I should have ordered that. For me the classic dilemma is hash browns or pancakes. I love 'em both, so it's always hard to choose. Today I slashed the Gordian breakfast knot in one decisive stroke: I ordered both of them, with scrambled eggs and bacon. Here's a guilty little secret the food police don't want you to know: bacon tastes good. If I knew I was going to die in a month, I would have bacon every day. With marionberry pie and ice cream for dessert.

I read the morning paper, sports first, and finished my breakfast. Ichiro had two hits, and the Packers and Brett Farve still haven't decided if he's going to play. VJ Singh leads Phil Mickelson by one stroke. The Ducks open spring practice on Monday. Barack Obama says John McCain represents the politics of the past and John McCain says Barack Obama lacks experience and leadership ability. They're both right, and we're doomed. Might as well have another piece of bacon.

After breakfast I did my laundry, washed and vacuumed the car, picked up my mail and had a workout. Glorious morning; it was just one and I had all the things on my mental checklist mentally checked, and I had Cheezits and lemonade for lunch.

I'm a big fan of garage sales. Moving in to a new place there were a few things I needed so on my way home I followed a couple of homemade signs to see what I might find. A couple of weeks ago I got a mattress pad, a flannel quilt and copies of The Iliad and The Odyssey for eight bucks. I stopped at three today, within a few blocks of each other, and picked up a print of Van Gogh's "The Irises" for a dollar, a leather man purse for my lap top for a dollar, and a sweet reading and thinking chair for twenty bucks. It's brown, and looks a little like the one my Grandma used to watch TV in. It doesn't recline but hey, twenty bucks. I had the top down so it fit perfectly in the back seat, although people driving past probably thought I looked like Uncle Jed driving to Beverly Hills. Thomas and Stephanie gave me an area rug they didn't use any more, and I vacuumed off the cat hair at the car wash, so now my sitting area is complete, except for a lamp and lamp table, which I will no doubt score at a garage sale in the near future. I love the look of happiness you get from people when you give them cash for their junk. You don't get that at WalMart.

It's 4:30 now and I've already had a full day. Tonight I'll go to see "Ironman" at the cheap theater, or I'll stay home and eat the rest of my Cheezits and read an Elmore Leonard novel. If you've never read Elmore Leonard, you should. He writes crime fiction so sharp and sparkling you wind up rooting for the crooks. He's incredibly good at pacing a story, letting it unfold, and he has a marvelous ear for dialogue. If you saw "Get Shorty" or "Out of Sight", those are both based on Elmore Leonard novels. The true measure of a writer is the eagerness he creates for what happens next, and Leonard and Stephen King are two of the best. Critics write them off as genre writers, but readers love their ability to create characters and tell a story. Why read if isn't interesting? But then again, I'm not a smart man. And that's all I have to say about that.