Goning

My father called it Goning. And it wasn't even his expression.

It was from Ruth Young. She was this lovely old old old woman I knew when I was very young. And certainly I don't know from where she created it. Maybe she learned it from someone else. And maybe she created it from knowing her husband, Hobart. He was a collector of many things. I don't remember him, but I know he loved odd and beautiful things. He had many.

Goning: that driving, needing, wanting, must-have feeling. One gones for an old stamp, a new car, a better airplane, a piece of pottery, an old fine quilt. We want, get it in our eyes, then our heads, then our soul. We wake...wanting. So very not Zen.

Ruth meant goning like "gonads." When you want something so badly, it gnaws at you...like something from your gonads. Gonads. Also very very not Zen.

You want something right now. I know it. What is it? Do drop me an email and let me know.

C

Big Numbers

Donald Rumsfeld was giving W. his daily briefing. He concluded by saying, "Yesterday three Brazilian soldiers were killed."

"OH NO!" the president exclaimed. "That's terrible!"

The staff sat still, stunned at the president's emotional outburst, nervously watching him as he sat with his head in his hands.

Finally, the president looked up. "How many is a brazillion?"