Ain't that a kick in the head?

Dean Martin* wants to know. And so did the grocery store bagger, all those years ago, who proclaimed something to be "better than a kick in the head."**

But what? What was better than a kick in the head? The price of ground chuck? A shopper's club card and its attendant savings? I have the sinking suspicion this isn't even my story: he was somebody else's bagger, remarking on somebody else's conveyor belt of comestibles.

Guess I'll just have to make it up. Which is convenient, for that is what I like to do best. I ain't sayin' I'm a liar. But I ain't sayin' I'm not. My associative brain hears Dean on the radio, and then I see this article on the Best Grocery Store of All Time***, and the song and the story reunite in my mind. The blanks are left to be imagined. It feels good to be writing again, even if it's piecemeal, in bits and chunks, in blanks to be filled in later. Lots of writers talk about "writing the islands," or just getting down the parts of the story that you can see, and eventually it'll all come together later. I'm going on faith that I'll be able to see the rest of the picture eventually. Not today, but eventually.



*Check out the video for the three classy dames seated front and center. I can't tell if they're bored or entranced. Ain't that a kick in the head?
**This phrase enjoyed a brief resurgence in my personal lexicon circa 1999. I'm bringing it back, 2010-style.
***Which I will visit in mere days, as a matter of principle.