Yeah, yeah, I know the order of those title topics should’ve been switched, but I figured I’d get the business out of the way before I got all gushy on ya. So the business…
The above daguerreotype of Edgar Allan Poe—and I’m not gonna lie; I selected that portrait not only because I hadn’t seen it as much as the others, but because it allowed me to use the word daguerreotype—captures the man as I want to remember him: intense, brilliant. Slightly mad. Not as the poor substance abuser who married his neighbor’s goat, or whatever it is people say about him. That’s the problem with Poe—you write stuff that weird and that amazing and people figure they can make up whatever they want about you. Folks will simply lap it up.
But I bring up Poe because Erin El-Mehairi (mastermind of the “Oh, for the Hook of a Book” blog) brought up Poe when she was talking about me.
Yeah, I’ll take that.
To read her full review, you can click right here. I really enjoyed it. And if you read The Sorrows and think I’m a psychopath, feel free to make up all sorts of untrue tales about me and my neighbor’s livestock. Like I said, any utterance of my name in the same sentence as Poe’s makes me a happy man!
Now for the most jarring and bizarre subject change of all time…
I don’t know if Poe would’ve liked Tangled or not, but my four-year-old daughter sure does.
I do too. No, I really do. In fact, I love it. It’s one of my favorite movies, and if you just lost respect for me and my movie tastes, you and your cold cynic’s attitude can go here for a heart transplant:
Back to Tangled. Or more specifically, back to my daughter.
I’m very thankful for her. That’s all I really wanted to say.
Of course, I’m thankful for all three of my kids, as well as my wife, but tonight I’m especially happy about my little Sparkle (and if you think that’s a nauseating nickname, you should hear the thirty-seven other things I call her).
Watching Tangled (for the one-hundred-and-sixteenth time) was a blessing. Holding her in my lap and laughing with her at the funny parts and covering her eyes at the scary parts and letting a couple tears soak into her hair during the moving parts…all of it was a blessing.
Go read the review of The Sorrows. And re-read some Poe. And then watch Tangled. And if you got nauseated during this post, don’t feel too bad. I probably would have too if it were somebody else being all mushy about his kid.