Have they reserved the trash for their customers?

This morning I spent a half an hour to forty-five minutes laying in bed half awake, half asleep. It is during times like that I truly understand stream-of-consciousness. It has been long enough, around ten hours, that I don’t remember half of what I was thinking, but here is a sample. I hope you can understand the stream.

I was remembering a class in twentieth century literature that I took when I first enrolled at IU South Bend, around a year after  I was Released from Active Duty (REFRAD) from the army. One of the books we read was a book of short stories titled Labyrinths by Jorge Luis Borges. He wrote the stories that I wanted to write. The first story in the book was “Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius.” After reading it I knew that he was a writer who I had to follow. Another story was “Pierre Menard, Author of the Quixote.” Which led me to wonder why Quixote is pronounced kee-HO-tee, but quixotic is kwikˈsätik. Where is the sense in that?

For some reason it occurred to me that the first time I read the term heresiarch was in a Borges story…except maybe it wasn’t. Had I learned that term, perhaps, in one of Fritz Lieber’s Fafhrd and the Gray Mouser stories? Either could be true, and I know it was one or the other, but which???

I turned back a few months to when I spent a semester in Bloomington, my first after the army. One of my classes was in Communications. Taking it fulfilled some prerequisite I need ed for my degree. The instructor was a young woman, around my age, but that’s all I remember about her. One morning when I came into the room just before class started she said to me, “I dreamed about you last night, Norm, and I was really mad at you when I woke up.” That’s just what every student wants to hear from their instructor. Then I thought about one of our writing assignments in that class. We had to pick some form of modern communications and to show how it was relevant. I had chosen to write about television, but two days before the paper was due I started reading Dune by Frank Herbert. I couldn’t put it down. I started reading it in the afternoon and stayed up until 2 or 3 in the morning. That left me 1 day to write the paper and I hadn’t done any research, so I wrote instead about the Green Lantern/Green Arrow series of comic book stories done by Denny O’Neil and Neal Adams in the previous two years. I could do that because I owned all of those books and didn’t need to go to the library.

Around that time I heard Cindy moving around in the kitchen, so I went down to get a cup of coffee. That’s also when I decided that I knew what I would be posting today.