Note: I’m thinking more Ziggy Stardust than patriotism, but do what you will with it.

Last night, as I was falling asleep, I had a marvelous idea for something to write about today. It was focused around an object, something heavy with nostalgia but also with incident, so that the nostalgia was not just for a time and place but also a specific act. Some choice, some impulse.

You can see where this is going, right? I forgot. My god, I was so full of bluster about the greatness of this idea. Usually when I’m struck by pre-sleep inspiration I’m smart enough to drag my carcass out of bed and write it down. But the concept was so simple, the memory so clear, that I was certain I’d remember it. Plus, I’m lazy.

So now all I have is the poignant sense that there is some object in the ether of my mind that is fraught and freighted with significance.

Perhaps it is waiting for me to come back upon it. At some opportune time. Or perhaps it’s lost.

Anyway, happy Wednesday. Let us celebrate all our accomplishments, forthwith, by meeting eagles with face tattoos.