Today is Eat What You Want Day. Which is about the closest reason I could find for starting the day with a stirring game of Cheese or Font? (Hat tip to Judah Ferst for the heads up on this one.)

The Venezuelan President is on Twitter, which he calls “a weapon that needs to be used by the revolution.” Read all about it in the Guardian over here. You can see Chavez’ Twitter page over here. But since it’s in Spanish, you might want to see the Babelfish translation of the page over here.

There aren’t a whole lot of Mother’s Day songs out there. When it’s someone’s birthday, you can always fall back on The Beatles or Bruce Springsteen, but Mother’s Day is a tough one. Some Googling for lists of Mother’s Day songs demonstrates how slim the pickings are: Some lists include Pink Floyd’s “Mother,” which expresses sentiments you probably won’t find on any Hallmark card.

Best I got for you is Springsteen’s “The Wish,” a six-verse short story about a boy and his mother … and a guitar.

Happy Mother’s Day!

Dirty old street all slushed up in the rain and snow
Little boy and his ma shivering outside a rundown music store window
That night on top of a Christmas tree shines one beautiful star
And lying underneath a brand-new Japanese guitar

I remember in the morning, ma, hearing your alarm clock ring
I’d lie in bed and listen to you gettin’ ready for work
The sound of your makeup case on the sink
And the ladies at the office, all lipstick, perfume and rustlin’ skirts
And how proud and happy you always looked walking home from work

If pa’s eyes were windows into a world so deadly and true
You couldn’t stop me from looking but you kept me from crawlin’ through
And if it’s a funny old world, mama, where a little boy’s wishes come true
Well I got a few in my pocket and a special one just for you

It ain’t no phone call on Sunday, flowers or a mother’s day card
It ain’t no house on a hill with a garden and a nice little yard
I got my hot rod down on Bond Street, I’m older but you’ll know me in a glance
We’ll find us a little rock ‘n roll bar and baby we’ll go out and dance

Well it was me in my Beatle boots, you in pink curlers and matador pants
Pullin’ me up on the couch to do the twist for my uncles and aunts
Well I found a girl of my own now, ma, I popped the question on your birthday
She stood waiting on the front porch while you were telling me to get out there
And say what it was that I had to say

Last night we all sat around laughing at the things that guitar brought us
And I layed awake thinking ’bout the other things it’s brought us
Well tonight I’m takin’s requests here in the kitchen
This one’s for you, ma, let me come right out and say it
It’s overdue, but baby, if you’re looking for a sad song, well I ain’t gonna play it

… and today marks the one-year anniversary of my mom’s passing.

No words of wisdom to impart … except for the all-too-common cliche about how time passes so quickly. I’m not sure why that is, though NPR has a few theories. I’m sure I’ll blink once or twice, and the next thing I know it’ll be the 10-year anniversary of her passing.

“The ultimate inspiration is the deadline.”
—Nolan Bushnell