No, that’s not a typo – that’s my name for this day.
I’m not much of an NFL fan, so I like to spend this day doing non-football things. There’s a fine misty rain falling, so today is going to be a full-on reading day. My game plan includes a couple of poetry books and maybe even a bit of time to finish Tommy Chong’s non-fiction book about his time in jail. Nothing at all like my time there (see previous post: In Prison -- again), his time was the real thing.
As much as I’ve always enjoyed Tommy Chong’s humour and some of his political musings, I hate to say but so far, the best thing about his book is the cleverness of its title, The I Chong. I also have to give him (or maybe his editors) credit for the way he’s followed through on this with chapter headings based on the real I Ching. And yes, the book is laced with lots of philosophical musings, even if a lot of them come off sounding pretty hokey. Maybe you’re supposed to be stoned when you read the book?
The saddest thing about the book is that much of it feels as though it’s some kind of deal he might have cut with the authorities – a kind of, Hey, folks, I’ve changed my mind. They were right. Marijuana is bad bad bad. Not exactly in keeping with his previous persona, but hey – nine months in jail probably alters one’s perceptions in ways that drugs never could. All I can say, Mr. Chong, is: Peace to ya, man.
And to everyone else I say, Happy Superb Owl Day. As the Superb Owl himself might say, Enjoy it.
ADDENDUM: Well, now that I've finished the book, I have to report that Tommy Chong did get down off his whitewashed soapbox long enough to offer some insights about life 'in the joint' -- after all, that is what the book is supposed to be about. He doesn't have a lot in the way of kind words for the 'system,' meaning everything from the prisons to the offices of GWB. Less soupy than my first impressions led me to believe.