La Jetee

A leap in ballet... in which one leg is extended forward... while the other is backward...

This is the best mindset to follow if you wish to achieve immortality.. 

The Blog Chronicles

George Clancy - simply a man who must be called by both his first and last name -  awoke from his daily nap underneath a pile of newspapers at the local library at his daily time of roughly three in the afternoon. It was a pleasant enough nap, but he still woke up feeling groggy. He stroked the muzzle that had grown during his respite, as he was a hairy man, and could emerge at three in the afternoon with a five o'clock shadow with the greatest of ease. His greatest claim to fame is that he grew a full beard in the course of four hours - all while awake. Some doubt that that such grizzliness can abound on the chin and lower jaw during cognizance, but George Clancy begs to differ. And he does, constantly, since few people outside of his immediate family (Blanche, his blind wife who lost both of her hands while she was helping a friend of hers move a couch into an apartment; their fourteen year old son, Ernest, with the wild imagination and comb-over; and his uncle Leroy, whose greatest claim to fame is that he will believe anything told to him more convincingly than anyone else) believe his hair-growing powers. All of this he thought about upon waking up from his night. So, to assuage his mind, he called his uncle Leroy from the local library's public phone, under the pretense that it was local call, when in actuality, it was long-distance:

"Leroy, remember that time when I grew a full beard in two hours, all while awake!"

"Of course! Unless you're George Clancy, that's something that doesn't happen every day!"

"See, you believe me! I feel like no one believes and it makes me so upset that I want to grow a beard so big that it will eat the whole town."

"Did that really happen?"

"It may as well!"

"Wow. I'd think I'd remember being eaten by a tsunami of a beard, but my memory's not as sharp as it used to be, apparently. They say it happens in the mid-thirties; you know, the autumn years."

There was a slight, albeit awkward pause, but George Clancy brought it back up when he rememberd his exact reason for calling.

"Do you still work for the newspaper?"

"When I don't lose my keys, I can usually write a story or two."

"I need you to write about how I grew two full beards in one hour."

"How does that work? Like, did you grow one beard, but underneath that beard, another beard was lying dormant, and then one day, like Vesuvius, errupted?"

"Sort of..."

"Golly!"

"Will your story make me famous?"

"In Belfield, North Dakota it will, yes."

"Can't you ship the story out of the state, somehow?"

"I write the story - usually any story - and then I don't fact-check it because I trust people, and then it gets printed, and then I have no control over it. I suppose I could drive the newspaper over to South Dakota..."

"And then to all the other states?"

"You South Dakotians are all about fame, aren't you?"

"I grew three beards in the course of a half hour! I deserve to be famous that doesn't happen to anyone else!"

"It happens to my cat, Ambrose, all the time!"

"Really? Damn. I thought I was the only one."

"Nope. Ambrose, too."

"I always get that stupid Christmas card with that picture of your cat, and I've never seen him with a beard..."

"Well, he shaves beforehand. You know how cats are."

"Are you going to write that story?"

"About my cat?once a month I do, yes, but I don't write about his beard because I don't want the fame going to his head."

"Then what on earth do you write about?"

"Well, I don't want to spoil the next article for you, but it's a top ten list of placesI'm mostly likely to find Ambrose curled-up. The important things."

George Clancy sighed, then said:

"I feel like this was a giant waste of time."

"Not for me. It's not often you hear about a cat growing a beard. My stars!"

"We were supposed to be talking about ME growing a beard!"

"But that's not NEW to me. For goodness sakes, I already knew about your abilities. You spent half of your toast at my second-wedding trying to convince everyone about it, you grizzled maniac."

"So write about it!"

"I have to follow the journalist's creed: If it's new to me, then it's news. If it's not new to me, then it probably isn't news, and I'm not going to write about it. I took an oath, and I'm loyal to my cause."

"Fine, then! I'll just live out the rest of my days in obscurity like a once-famous actor - minus the famous part - with a really big beard!"

And then George Clancy hung the phone up angrilly - he always hung the phone up like that, even if it was a pleasant phone call, for he was a dramatic man - stroked the gigantic mass of hair that abounded on his chin and lower jaw, that was now, for the first time, starting to show signs of gray.