Spring is here! Yesterday I took my car to the park and sat there for an hour and a half, writing, with the windows rolled down and the radio on. It's underrated, writing in cars. As a general rule they have far fewer distractions than houses. Then I took a walk and wouldn't you know it, a red red robin came bob bob bobbing across the path. I need the Louis Armstrong CD with that song right away; Amazon's reviewers are a little fussy about Ambassador Satch, but I don't want absolute masterpieces, I want the red red robin. If the day is begun with that song everything will be all right.
A close second: any of the happy Frank Black songs about space travel, especially the last song on Teenager of the Year, where he exhorts you to "get out of your seat and do a little dance," because the sun is only eight minutes away by photon power.
Every month or so we have to bring up sloths in conversation, because we still can't believe that time where Ethan claimed the word was pronounced "sloath," with a long o, and the dictionary backed him up. It was kind of an old dictionary, but still. Cristina mentioned the sloths of Panama City, which apparently are known as "monos peligrosos" (dangerous monkeys), and they actually are dangeroussometimes they will wander into the city and get confused and lie in the middle of the street. If you get too close they'll take a swipe at you. Sadly I was unable to find any further information via Google, so that's all: my little unique contribution to our knowledge fund. I did find them referred to as "monos perezosos" (lazy monkeys), like on this Costa Rica tourism page where a kid and a sloth check each other out.
After the park I kept wandering and ended up in the cemetery, where generations of Iowa City's dead have turned into trees. Their roots grip the earth and their branches shade the slopes. It's a different and much slower life, being a tree, but I imagine they enjoy it.