even bad karma doesn't like bad karma

On Friday I sent a wonderful musical improv-er I know a note that followed up on a lunch conversation we had had a month ago. As four of us ate pizza it came out that I was the only person at the table who did not blog. In fact, I had no intention of ever blogging. Why would I? Well, a month later my MySpace page got deleted and I was pretty steamed. So, I started a blog--and not on that Communist left-wing MySpace.

In my e-mail on Friday I said that I don't know whether I can un-bad-karma my life (disappearing MySpace account being one of the more minor incidents). Maybe the positive step is to embrace that knack I have for making bad karma all around me. And I'll write a blog about it--yeah, that's what I'll do. And the name for my blog is inspired by the name the wonderful musical improv-er chose for her blog, which I totally dig--the name and the blog.

I then got on with a typical undignified Tony Powell day, which at work included smearing chocolate on my pants at lunch--at a time when I was down in the dumps about other stuff too lengthy to recount here.

Later that day she put up a wonderful little post on her blog (How to be a person). She veiled a lot of the possibly identifying information, although I suppose could guess and some of it. But even if I knew nothing about what she was talking about, who could resist her ecstatic words? It was like a handful of Walt Whitman lines about how great American is or a one of those Jack Kerouac paragraphs that has phrases like "Whooo wee! I told my soul!" in it.

That's a cheerful thing to read and the end of a dark week! if you're me.

I went home that night and discovered--quite spontaneously--a spectacular new way to spill coffee on my upholstered chair, which left a stain that now looks like somebody barfed there months ago. And my computer, which was right there . . .

. . . fortunately had a manuscript on it; so, the manuscript got splashed pretty good and my computer was spared.

Which brings me to a point: By working my way through these little penances I might be un-bad-karma-ing my life. And even bad karma wants to avoid bad karma. Perhaps there *is* a way of things turning out O.K.: I got chocolate on my khakis, but it was Friday--they were headed for the laundry anyway. My chair has a pukey stain on it--but my computer is just fine and the chair wasn't very expensive.

On Saturday before I headed off to my sketch-writing class I went online and saw that the wonderful musical improv-er had pulled down her ecstatic post. Ah, gee! Did something bad happen? Did someone in it recognize themselves and not like what was said? Was if my fault? (I know, I know, how could it possibly be my fault? Well, I have a knack for making bad karma all around me. A couple of weeks ago I had dinner with a friend: She got deathly ill over the appetizers and had to rush home. Probably the last warm night we'll see this year in New York. She assured me I did not bring her bad luck. I felt better that she said that--but I'll feel a lot better when she publishes her novel.) A few more lessons on how to be a person and I'll probably be O.K. We’ll all be O.K.!