bingo is her name-o

Couple of things from my ever so brief foray back to the East Coast to visit the grandparents.

Binghamton is, like many places in America--including Historic Ticonderoga, my hometown--a town that has Home Depots and Targets and whatnot on the outskirts and a crumbling, derelict, boarded up old-timey downtown district. You can't drive through that part of town without shaking a fist and yelling "Wal*Mart!!!!" Anyway, driving past the giant abandoned shoe factory that used to support the area (along with IBM), my grandmother points at a set of broken windows and says "that was the office I worked in." And it wasn't really wistful or nostalgic or in any way sentimental as far as I can tell, but I have to imagine what that must feel like, how old/mortal it must make you feel to literally see your former workplace decay.

The next day, my parents came to visit and we drove by my mom's elementary school on our way to lunch. She pointed to a classroom and said, "That's where I was when I found out Kennedy was shot." My mother is her mother's daughter.

On a lighter note. Or something. The woman sitting next to me on the plane was reading a book called the Fishing Rod, and I couldn't help but notice (all right, I was being nosy) that the big text on the back said: America's #1 metaphor for love!

OK.

Thing #1: I'm aware of the fishing metaphors there are regarding relationships: more fish in the sea, good catch, etc.

Thing #2: I have nothing against fishing. It was a favorite pastime of mine as a white trash youth and it's a lot less morally reprehensible than fish farming, IMHO. You may think that makes me a hypocritical vegetarian and I'm OK with that. I'm keeping it real.

Those things said: Could there be a worse metaphor for love than fishing? You dupe some unsuspecting, unintelligent creature into thinking you're providing it sustinence, when really you're providing it with something POINTY. Then you mangle it and drag it from its environment, kill it, and eat it. Alternatively you can just torture it for a while, decide it's too small, and return it to its home. WTF? Is this love!?!

I think I need to go to a bookstore and actually look at this book. From what I could gather without being too obnoxious, there's lots of charts and bullet points and stuff.