When is nothing something?

Nothing happened on our house project today. Or yesterday, or Wednesday. Today it took an act of the concrete people, who didn't deliver due to the prediction of rain, to make nothing happen. Is it nothing when it requires a decision or an act? Where's Sartre when you need him? It finally rained this evening. It rained like a son of a bitch for about ten minutes. I was driving home during the rain, and I drove through rain for about two miles: a few drops, then a shower, then a heavy rain, then such a downpour that several drivers pulled over because they couldn't see, then 150 yards later, down to nothing. Remarkable.

Bad philosophy joke. "To do is to be." - Descartes. "To be is to do." - Sartre. "Do be do be do." - Sinatra. Another: "Nietzsche is pietzsche."

Wendy is taking faith that most of the settling has taken place, She is putting items back into the dining room hutch, which displays them in an enclosed lighted cabinet. We managed to break one piece while packing them for safety; the reloading is going better.

The nothing of the house project allows me to reflect on the passing of George Carlin, and on how many disparate sources note his passing and how he spoke to their field of interest. Sports Illustrated made mention of his marvelous take on football vs. baseball. I had forgotten the part they mentioned, but I remember "Football is played in a Stadium. Baseball is played in a park. "
And something on the order of " in football, they have blitzes. The offense drives through the opponent's territory, throwing bombs...in baseball, they're trying to get home safe." Carlin was a master at emphasizing these with nuances of voice: you can hear the aggression in his descriptions of football and the instant change to gentle innocence when he speaks of baseball.

I remember his reflection about the glass: "some people say the glass is half-empty. Some people say the glass is half-full. I say the glass is TOO BIG." He loved language and ripped on its misuse, and noted some interesting contradictions: all he had to say was 'jumbo shrimp" and you knew that something didn't quite fit.

And he understood dogs and cats. I don't have his exact words, but: A dog will walk into a table, and cry out to show pain and come to be petted and pitied. A cat will walk into the same table, and stalk off as if to say, "I meant to do that," then go behind the couch and say to itself, "oh, MEOW."

I remember him from 60's shows, portraying Al Pouch, the Hippy-Dippy Mailman, or Al Sleet, the Hippy-Dippy Weatherman; from the latter came his famous forecast of "Tonight, dark. Dark through the night, followed by increasing light toward morning." We saw him in Milwaukee, in his first visit to that city after his arrest for the fabled seven words. Of course, he had to explain them and defend himself. You only need to remember that "a cocksucker isn't a bad man, it's a nice lady."

I got a little bit exasperated with the near-canonization of Tim Russert of NBC, especially by that network but all through the media. I believe that the loss of George Carlin has a broader cultural impact, and that more people will remember him fondly without having to be sold on it.