I forwarded it to my friend Megan, who is a fifth grade teacher and therefore stands accused by it. I never had a single elementary teacher ever who, looking back, I approve of at all. But I like to think that Megan is better. Not that I'd really know; I haven't seen her teach.
I bought myself a chair today. An office-style ergonomically correct $40 chair with adjustable height and such. The idea is to use it with my desk that I got free from work last year (they had an extra desk which for some reason they didn't want anymore, so they sent a mass email saying "anybody want a desk?" and I was the first to write back "yes" so I got the desk) and which has been sitting around unused for the past year since I never got around to buying a chair the right height for it. My current typing arrangement involves a tiny short easy-chair and a weird short little wooden computer stand. It's not really that bad but the desk would allow me a lot more desk space to work with. So anyway, I bought a chair. Then I called Megan and told her that I bought a chair, and that I hadn't put it together yet, it was still in pieces in a big cardboard box.
Megan: When you put things together, do you read the instructions?
Me: Yeah, I usually do.
Megan: Oh, I don't. I just look at the parts and explore how they might fit together.
Me: And then after a few minutes fiddling around with the chair-making kit, voila! You've created a desk!
Megan: A desk would be cool. I wouldn't mind a desk.
Me: Well, it would be interesting if you could really make a desk out of a chair-making kit.
Megan: But you could!
Me: No, my chair-making kit has parts that are quite distinctly shaped like a chair seat and a chair back.
Megan: But you could make a kind of desk . . .
Me: A modern art interpretation of a desk!
But I did read the instructions, and followed them, and created a chair instead. Even though Robert Alter would certainly prefer Megan's approach.
And Megan and I decided to go out to dinner tomorrow evening, though where on earth we'll eat is anybody's guess since there's not a single food category that either one of us likes which the other one doesn't abhor. A few years ago we went on a road trip to San Diego together for two weeks, and when attempting to eat together, we more than once resorted to finding to restaurants next door to one another that both had outdoor eating areas so we could get our food separately and still manage to eat together.
Which reminds me, I've gotten a surprising number of responses to my potato candy recipe, though Morgan is the only respondent who's actually eaten potato candy, and all the people who've never eaten it have the arrogance to assume they wouldn't like it. Well, if you like any candy bearing the Reese's label I assure you that you'd like potato candy: it doesn't taste like potatoes in the least, silly. You can't judge a candy by a list of its ingredients on paper.
But anyway, since candy recipes apparently get a big response, I can't resist mentioning that Andre recently linked to a recipe for cat poop cookies which has to be seen to be believed.