Signifying nothing

One I am in a white Ford Taurus with my sister.  She is saying something.  I say something back.  There is music playing.  The music is vague, but I recall, now, that one of my earliest memories is of her driving our metallic blue Ford Falcon and singing along to "Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog." She drives on.  We are on Redwood Road--a broad road, with a flat open treeless expanse around us of random houses and strip malls. I am adult me.  She morphs from her eighteen-year-old self to her middle age. And then, suddenly, ahead, there is a parade.  The marching band owns our lane. She accelerates. The flag twirlers spot our car and, screaming, bustle to the roadside, flags dragging behind. The band breaks before us in a cacophony of terror.  Trumpets and trombones fly into the air. "They need to get out of the way!"  my sister exclaims, hitting the accelerator. I think we clip one of the girls as we pass.  I try to t...

All hell broke loose when the Muscari sisters showed up to the dance. Originally uploaded by Clint Gardner

While I was sojourning the British Isles, the old URL for Signifying nothing  (signifyingnothing.com) came up for renewal.  I knew that it was going to happen, but in my literal rush to get the hell out of town--I slept past my alarm on the day of my flight out after finishing up a rather taxing semester and came this close to missing my flight--I neglected to do so. No worries , I thought, I'll do it when I get back . More famous last italicized words, it would seem. When I returned from the adventure in nearly mid January, after having spent a whirlwind trip in a dark, cold, yet absolutely enthralling Atlantic Archipelago , I rushed back into a new semester, and gave little thought to my little webby friend, and, having experienced the soul-crushing realization that exchanged rates suck, I wasn't about to plonk down one more Euro.  My previous domain name provider, you see, was based in France.   Not one red euro-cent shall I provide to the economy of Europe!...