Ben Stein’s Diary
Memorial Day Monday
ALEX AND I ARE AT OUR HOUSE IN MALIBU. You simply cannot imagine how beautiful the weather is here today. Cloudless blue skies. No humidity at all. Slight breeze. Temps in mid-70s. Birds of all kinds, especially some kind of blue birds (maybe blue jays), flying all around, singing perfectly.
Immense hawks with forked tails also cruise by all day long looking for prey. Actually, we were supposed to be in D.C. attending memorial services at Arlington. But gnarled McFate (a Nabokov reference) stepped in. Two nights ago, I got a call from someone very close to me, a woman I am fond of, to put it mildly. She told me that her 24-year-old son, of whom I am also extremely fond, was having a nervous breakdown. The poor kid has been having one problem after another, so I ran right over.
He was standing in his undershorts (boxers, probably a gift from my wife and me) covered in blue food dye. He had several bowls of blue water on the counter in front of him. In the bowls, immersed in the water, were various bits of takeout Japanese food.