Que Sera Sara?

I christened this voyage Que Sera Sara for several reasons:

I . The song Que Sera Sera is often translated as What Will Be, Will Be – a zen motto I’d like to learn to live by
II. An equally terrible translation of Que Sera Sara becomes What Will Be Sara? An apt question. I still don’t know the answer.
III. The song was written for Doris Day in a Hitchock film. I love old movies, even the saccarine, candy-coloured, racist, sexist, (closeted) cornball ones she would later come to represent. Plus, it won an Oscar. If you don’t know the song, you should listen to it. :

IV. The phrase translation is a bad one. It’s spanish words, but not spanish grammar.  My own verbosity can hardly be considered English so I find this sort of misappropriation a kindred spirit.
V. The phrase is reputedly based on a mucked up Italian one which was referenced in The Barefoot Contessa and Marlowe’s Faustus. Yay for sexpots and obscure literary allusion.
VI. The song has been rehashed, remade, remixed and revised for fifty years. Everytime different, but every time the same. I only hope my life can be as infinitely accessible, utterly flexible and entirely unique. Here is a very pretty vimeo art video using Que Sera Sera plus old announcement audio for a commentary on print vs. digital.

As you may have noticed, I have a tendency to overthink things and a penchant for listmaking. There are worse vices. You’ll probably meet them too, eventually.

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I have a confession. No matter how hip and open minded  I am about many things (yes, I am one of those “graffiti is art too” people. I also eat garbanzo beans. And once I even tried running)

I digress. Ahem.

I hate the word blog. Having had one for a decade now (almost to the day), I am not to be mistaken for the grannies who think the English language is dying. Indeed, having a special word for an online journaly whatsit is terribly handy. I just think it’s an ugly word.

The shape and sound of those four letters in that combination is appropriate for the detritus rejected by seagulls when ripping open and rummaging through the garbage bags behind McDonalds. Or possibly some manifestation of gym socks.

Not the insanely clever and sweet mutterings of my soul. So despite this being a web-based log* I wouldn’t call it a blog.

Besides, I would argue no one except ship’s captains (including Kirk, Picard et al) use logs that are not web-based, and therefore that more generic (and infinitely better) term will suffice.

And if I get mistaken for a ship’s captain as a consequence of my choice I am cool with that.  In fact, I’d encourage it.