I have an itch. It's right in the middle of my back and I can't get it, and it is driving me crazy. I can be a bit dull when it comes to global warming (Lights off, Dad, Imo reminds me. Oh yeah) or phone bills (this is your final notice, Mr Scrimger. Oh, shoot, yeah!) or even foods my kids can eat (Why ham, Dad? None of us likes ham. Oh. Yeah?) but my mind is a razor when it comes to a small, immediate, and personal irritant. Like this itch. (Pencil can't reach it. Rubbing against the door frame doesn't work either. Grrrr.) Doesn't have to be a physical itch. I get mental itches too. Like who starred in The Lady Eve? A question like that can walk into my mind with a gun, and hold it hostage. (Henry Fonda was the guy -- a fine goofball role for him, but who was Eve? It's her movie.) I'll try to work, but keep coming back to the question like a dog to a favorite fire hydrant. (Bette Davis? No. Rosalind Russell? No. Grrr.) A few days ago I lost hours trying to remember the other song by Boston. (Not Oh what a feeling -- the other one. They have two, you know.) This last example is especially irritating because I don't even like Boston that much. So, while I am trying to concentrate on the next chapter in the zombie book, I am thinking of 40s movie heroines, and zeroing in on the need for a ruler to scratch myself with. A wooden spoon won't work as well and, besides, I don't want my back smelling of spaghetti sauce -- or vice versa, come to that. Found! Found! Found! An old foot long wooden one from public school. It was at the back of a desk drawer. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. That's better. Back to the book now, and about time too. Seriously though, who was she? Funny, I can remember that Charles Coburn was her card-sharking dad in the movie -- great part. Eugene Pallette, one of my favorite bit part players, was in it too. There's a breakfast scene ... which reminds me that I have to buy something for dinner tonight. Maybe some ham.
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