Hang on, let me get the timer.

Don’t know what this is, exactly, jotting notes here on a WordPress blahg.  Our oldest human need– to make ourselves known to others?   The exercise of writing is a good thing, and as James Lipton said in a recent interview– it is his happiest way to spend a day.  Outside of, he smiled to the camera, spending time with his lovely wife, of course.

I had no idea what a remarkable and brilliant man, and superb interviewer, James Lipton is, until recently watching his interviews of Dave Chappelle and Mickey Rourke.  But the clock is ticking and so, rather than trawl for the links, as I should, I commend them to you, and commend them again, recommending them, as it were.

“Hah! wordplay with only three minutes counting down?” you will ask, drawing a sword.  

“Whoa, why the sword, cousin?” I will ax in alarum, because a second ago it was wordplay and now, suddenly deploying this “s”— yow!

“‘Yow! you racsal?!!– Draw I say!” you will say, waving deadly steel.

I do love to draw, but I’m afraid, with less than two minutes left there won’t be time for that now.  Put by that sword, friend.

“‘Friend?  Knave, draw I say!”

Eyeing the clock nervously, I’m not trying to stall, mind you, but the whole point of this exercise is to keep tapping, like Bojangles, like, I don’t know what.  Why the clock?

Might as well ask God that question.  “Why the clock, God?”  And none of us know, except in this moment when I can see less than 30 seconds left, now 20, when the buzzer will ring and we will be gone, the only trace of us the mess we leave behind.