I agree that most of the time the things we want for others are really the things that we want for ourselves. The criticisms and suggestions and wishes that we offer to others are meant for ourselves, too. So - for you I offer these two suggestions: Read more poetry. Listen deeper.
From time to time I get sudden flashbacks to some bad or embarrassing scene from the past. They make me shudder or exhale or sometimes even mutter something to try and make the thought pass on. They are nothing big and I don't know why they plague me decades later but they live on in my body somewhere. One of the most frequent visitors is from college days - freshmen orientation, to be exact. It was the only time in my life I asked a total, absolute stranger for a date. We'd hardly had 20 words together before I asked her out. She declined, of course, but it was the gaping moment of silence that preceded that jabs me in the gut every now and then. I doubt she was stunned. I think she just wanted to see me squirm for a bit before she replied - give me time to regret. It worked.
But the memory that caught me off guard this morning is one that I'd forgotten for many years. It was third grade. Spring. The teacher told us to write a poem about Spring. I wrote the first thing that came to mind which was a song we'd learned to sing in second grade. It went like this:
"Robin, Robin, singing in the rain
Robin, Robin, Spring has come again"
and finished with something like:
"Pretty little Robin in the apple tree"
The teacher liked it so much (perhaps it had that familiar ring to it) that she sent it off to a children's literary magazine who published it. I knew none of this until it was printed. My parents had signed a waiver to allow the publication, I might have even received some money, I don't remember. I just remember being horrified that I would be found out - I had stolen this poem from our second grade sing-a-long book. I seem to remember trying to tell my mom that I hadn't written this poem but I don't remember her reaction or if she even understood what I was telling her.
I guess this all came back because it's Spring - the robins are here. I can't remember the third line of the song (and there were other verses but I only used the first one). If you know the rest or where it comes from let me know. I'll put the tune up later when I have time.
Back when life was crazier - on the road a lot and not taking time to take care of myself - I used to eat a lot of fast food, especially on the way to gigs. A good quick meal was a cheese burger and a small fries and a cup of really awful coffee. I don't remember exactly at what point "small" fries disappeared from the burger chain menus but I just never could remember to order anything different and was always surprised to be reminded "we only have medium and large fries." Why they couldn't just give me medium fries when I asked for small I don't know - I mean, it's the smallest that they have. But no, I'd have to be reprimanded for asking for this non-existent item. I never figured out what was so uncool about small fries but in the burger world they were taboo. Well, after years of eating right I got a hankering for some grease the other day and being out and about decided to drop in on Mickey D - the old golden arches up in Hillsborough. Something odd caught my eye on the drive-through menu. Small Fries. 99 cents. Wow. I fell for it. But it was a trap. "Honey, are you sure you really want the small fries? The medium ones are just a penny more." I was caught. What American could resist up-sizing for just a penny more. OK. I'll take the medium ones. I had to stop in the middle of the parking lot just to make sure I really got my cheeseburger. It was buried under the largest pile of fries I had ever seen. My reward for making the right choice. I think I see what is happening here. Enough people complained about not having the option of getting only a small portion of grease and salt. The burger people listened. These are dangerous times for the fast food world. But that prejudice - whatever it is - against small fries is still strong and the marketing people have set out to prove that no one really wants small fries. They know you can't resist up-sizing to the medium for just a penny more. For now it's back to tempeh for me.
Don't you wish there were a knob on the TV to turn up the intelligence? There's one marked 'Brightness,' but it doesn't work. Gallagher Thanks to The Quote of the Day
This is what I think of this time of night....