A few things...

I took this photo on a long walk last night, just before the sun began to reach the horizon. And while it's "just a cloud," it had struck me as being this perfect little cloud all alone in the middle of that deep-blue sky you get shortly before sunset.

The sun was hitting the cloud directly as it began its decline, producing this luminescence that's not entirely present in the photo.

But it was after I shot this that I began to walk away, then glanced back at the cloud, and saw something I'd never seen before:

The angle of the sun hitting this cloud caused a shadow to cast across the sky, something barely visible with the human eye, but with polarized sunglasses, I was stunned by this shadow that extended a couple hundred kilometres east across the sky, all the way to the summit of Mount Baker (considerably southeast of Vancouver, in the Washington Cascade Mountains), whose peaks were pink in the setting sun.

I wonder if I'll ever see something like it again and I wish I could have photographed it, but... some things are for memories only as they're impossible to capture. What a fucking sight, and it was visible for all of five minutes before the sun's angle changed yet again.

I found myself wondering, out of the two million people in the area, how many were, like me, fortunate enough to have glanced up and caught this sight? And then I found myself feeling grateful and smug that, regardless of the overall number, at least this one had.

* * *

I'm getting a little tired of the blogging thing, but maybe I'm just a little overdone in general right now. I may or may not be inconsistent. Seems the comments are paltry lately, (thank you those who do comment, though) and it's not really helping to keep me "inspired." Heh. Fuckin' divas.

So, I'm burning out a little, but I don't want be. So let's see if I can change up the mix. I think I can, but I'm gonna need your help.

Read on. (Trust me, it's much funnier and tres irreverent. Forgive me, Ma.)

* * *

Any of you who’ve been around for a while, you might remember my saying once that my dream job -- my pinch-me-I’m-dreaming job -- would be that of a sex columnist at Esquire.

Now, I’d moonlight as an opinion-editorialist, too, because I’d love to be paid to say my two fucking cents’ worth about all the mad-ass shit goin’ down, but advice columnist... too fun!

So, let’s practice.

I would LOVE to receive letters asking advice or what have you, about sex, friends, that jerk next door, whatever. Now, I may not give you the Emily Post/Miss Manners answer the white-bread fan inside of you wants to hear... but it’ll be an effective solution, let’s put it that way.

It will be completely anonymous. You can sign it in any name you want, and that’s what’ll run. I swear on my mother’s grave. She’s dead you know, so that grave thing? Not a problem. Well, actually, yes. A problem: We cremated her. She swims with fishes, my friends.

But anonymity is yours for the asking.

And made-up questions? Fuckin’ a! Bring’em on! That’d be a hoot.

Now, don’t disappoint me and not participate. I know some of you have got to have some questions. I promise. It’ll be worth it. I’ll have too damned much entertainment answering them. I’ll mull ‘em all over and then answer on a night where I down a bottle of wine and listen to Floyd. It’ll be inspired.

And my mom and her fish friends’ll make sure I keep my mouth shut.

Where, oh, where does the email go? thelastditch@gmail.com

Note, I said email. We want to keep the q’s hush-hush till the answers are with them, non? More surprise, oui? Oui. Thanks for playing.

And thanks for reading.

And a special thanks to those of you who always read and post little comments. You rock.