-- Saturday, March 18, 2000 --

3:05 a.m. It's getting late -- and I've got to make the doughnuts. Oddly, today I met a plumber who once used to work in a doughnut shop and he was, indeed, one of us. We, who make the doughnuts while you sleep so that you'll have something nice to munch on once you wake.

Sweet, don't you think?

I'm still out there web-wading, looking for animations. I really don't know what's wrong with my brain or why I am so amused by these little things that go bump in the night, seemingly forever. I know they are hated and despised among the cognoscenti, but I can't help wanting to put them on my page.

They keep me company with their endless loop of activity. I've also been maintaining a daddy-long-legs in the bathroom, down in the back beside the toilet, where he is bothering no one, but mighty troubling to many. He, also, keeps me company during these long, long nights.

Who's to say? And before I get too far down this column, I'd like to point out the interesting thing going on in my photo. You can barely make it out, but over on the right side, above the logs, is the word "test" constructed out of cd-roms.

This is very, very odd. This particular house is right on the beach, right above the boardwalk. One hundred percent pure ocean view. The front of the house seems to be finished and there is a row of cd's above the front lintel, so the ones on the side are not temporary.

Maybe. Or probably not. I'll keep walking by and I'll keep you informed. Now, above the word "test" there is a solid block of cd's, all shiny side out, all beginning their sojourn in the corrosive sea air. I really wonder about them and how they will weather.

Eventually, I will knock on the front door or I will be walking by when one of the owners is home, and I will get the full story. Is the owner a record company exec? Maybe. Could be. For now, it's a mystery.

For now, it's just another prime example of outsider art; decoration for the sheer joy of it, adornment as expression.

Look familiar?