Nos Vemos, Los Angeles.
July 28, 2009
Or, Back in the New York Groove.
When I decided to crawl out of the eighteenth century and start this blog, I promised myself I would not vomit irrelevant musings like Narcissus would if there were a Narcissus Blog (even the word blog itself is repugnant to me, to be honest). But here I am, enjoying not the sound of my own voice, but the sound of my own keyboard. And I have some time to kill before Oleanna starts in New York, so I’ve been letting my mind wander. I don’t pretend my insight is, well, insightful, I just hope it is at least worth a chuckle. So indulge me.
Did you know there is a National Yogurt Association? I was reading my yogurt container today… (yes, I have that much time, and I feel irrationally guilty about it because I am, essentially, a New Yorker)… I was reading my yogurt container and noticed it said “meets National Yogurt Association’s requirements for live active cultures.” This had me thinking, who exactly comprises the National Yogurt Association? And do they spend their working hours looking at thousands of petri dishes full of yogurt samples? Petri dishes full of thousands of yogurt samples, full of billions of live bacteria? What do they do when they are not working, and can they ever eat a cup of yogurt again? Curiouser and curiouser. (FYI, with a bit of reconnaissance, I discovered the NYA WEBSITE! Did you know that yogurt has a publicist? Thankfully, those good little active bacteria are no longer misrepresented).
Before I stumbled on this new information, I attended a Yoga class for the first time since being back from Los Angeles. The class did what it was supposed to, I left feeling limber and a tiny bit Buddha, but not before I noticed the many things one could buy at said Yoga Studio. There were books and CD’s and leotards and outfits and seminar packets and audiences with gurus. My idle thoughts sufficiently controlled, and my $18 clarity reached, it seemed ironic that an ancient non-material tradition could become so glaringly profitable. God, I love New York.
