happy restaurants still exist, don’t go often … like a local church
Adapted from the article, Applebee’s and Ihop unite – will new ‘dual’ restaurant tempt back US diners? by Adam Gabbatt where Mr. Gabbatt writes:
Perhaps the truth is that some Americans have been guilty of indulging in nostalgia over patronage when it comes to Applebee’s and Ihop: people are happy these restaurants still exist, in the same way they are about a local church, but they don’t actually go that often – also like a local church.
I am reminded of the last lines of the movie Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby.
The family of Ricky Bobby included his estranged parents, girlfriend and children are standing out side the Talladega Superspeedway when Reese Bobby looks around.
The movie closes with this bit of dialogue.
Reese: I gotta say things are pretty much perfect right now. And it’s makin’ me kinda of itchy. Ricky: What’d you say we all get thrown out of an Applebee’s? Reese: Yeah that’d probably do the trick.
Maybe we all need to go get kicked out of Applebee’s again.
where the sweep of the harbor tide comes in, I rest dream, sit on the deck
Based on the poem, Waiting, by Carl Sandburg in Other Days as published in The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg, by Carl Sandburg, Harcourt, Brace, New York, 1950.
Today I will let the old boat stand Where the sweep of the harbor tide comes in To the pulse of a far, deep-steady sway. And I will rest and dream and sit on the deck Watching the world go by And take my pay for many hard days gone I remember.
I will choose what clouds I like In the great white fleets that wander the blue As I lie on my back or loaf at the rail. And I will listen as the veering winds kiss me and fold me And put on my brow the touch of the world’s great will.
Daybreak will hear the heart of the boat beat, Engine throb and piston play In the quiver and leap at call of life. To-morrow we move in the gaps and heights On changing floors of unlevel seas And no man shall stop us and no man follow For ours is the quest of an unknown shore And we are husky and lusty and shouting-gay.
On my first morning bike ride as an Islander …
I pass this way each day that I drive to work.
I would take a photo with my phone held in one hand as I crossed the bridge in the middle of the island.
Now I ride my bike to the edge of the marsh.
I can sit and I will choose what clouds I like.
In the great white fleets that wander the blue.
As I lie on my back or loaf at the rail.
And I will listen as the veering winds kiss me and fold me.
And put on my brow the touch of the world’s great will.
boxes on beach are empty shake ’em nails loosen they have been somewhere
Adapted from the poem Sand Scribblings by Carl Sandburg in Smoke and Steel as published in The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg, by Carl Sandburg, Harcourt, Brace, New York, 1950.
The wind stops, the wind begins. The wind says stop, begin.
A sea shovel scrapes the sand floor. The shovel changes, the floor changes.
The sandpipers, maybe they know. Maybe a three-pointed foot can tell. Maybe the fog moon they fly to, guesses.
The sandpipers cheep ‘Here’ and get away. Five of them fly and keep together flying.
Night hair of some sea woman Curls on the sand when the sea leaves The salt tide without a good-by.
Boxes on the beach are empty. Shake ’em and the nails loosen. They have been somewhere.
This is special to me today as I know the boxes on the beach are empty.
They are empty because we emptied them.
We know they have been somewhere, because we filled them and moved them to the island … were we now live.
Got to go ride my bike to the NEARBY beach and scribble in the sand.
“Teleporting is no fun,” he said “You know it’s happening, but you can’t do anything about it, and so you just go, you just go with the ride. And wow, what just an incredible adventure it all was.”
When you don’t have to make stuff up, what chance does fiction and humor have?
Ides of March are come …. seer said softly, … they are come but they are not gone
Adapted from The Parallel Lives: The Life of Julius Caesar by Plutarch, as published in Vol. VII of the Loeb Classical Library edition, 1919 where the author rights.
The following story, too, is told by many. A certain seer warned Caesar to be on his guard against a great peril on the day of the month of March which the Romans call the Ides; and when the day had come and Caesar was on his way to the senate-house, he greeted the seer with a jest and said: “Well, the Ides of March are come,” and the seer said to him softly: “Ay, they are come, but they are not gone.” Moreover, on the day before, when Marcus Lepidus was entertaining him at supper, Caesar chanced to be signing letters, as his custom was, while reclining at table, and the discourse turned suddenly upon the question what sort of death was the best; before any one could answer Caesar cried out: “That which is unexpected.” After this, while he was sleeping as usual by the side of his wife, all the windows and doors of the chamber flew open at once, and Caesar, confounded by the noise and the light of the moon shining down upon him, noticed that Calpurnia was in a deep slumber, but was uttering indistinct words and inarticulate groans in her sleep; for she dreamed, as it proved, that she was holding her murdered husband in her arms and bewailing him.
Julius Caesar, Act I, Scene II also comes to mind.
Cassius speaks to Brutus
Now, in the names of all the gods at once, Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed! Rome, thou hast lost the breed of noble bloods! When could they say, till now, that talked of Rome, That her wide walks encompassed but one man? Now is it Rome indeed, and room enough When there is in it but only one man.
As Kenneth Roth, a Guardian US columnist and visiting professor at Princeton’s School of Public and International Affairs, and former executive director of Human Rights Watch writes in his opinion piece, “Trump needs to reject Netanyahu’s quest for a forever war“:
As the world suffers the economic consequences of this disastrous war of choice, and people see yet another defenseless people being pummeled by the US-Israeli military alliance, public opinion is turning rapidly. American support for Israel has plummeted, first as it committed genocide in Gaza, and apartheid and ethnic cleansing in the West Bank, and now the crime of aggression in Iran.
Trump’s lawless belligerence and indifference to international standards have made the public in key democratic allies – Canada, Germany, France and the UK – favor a turn toward China, despite its own repressive indifference to international law. That’s quite an accomplishment.
Trump’s aggression is no more popular among allied governments. His pleas for help in defending tankers in the strait of Hormuz have so far come up empty. He has tried to up the ante, suggesting that his commitment to Nato, a defensive alliance built on pledges to support any member under attack, would depend on Nato members joining him in his offensive war of aggression. The response to that threat was decidedly cold.
Trump has an endless capacity to make fact-free pronouncements about the brilliant success of his policies. Iranians’ best hope may be that he declare victory and move on. Trump’s demand for Iran’s “unconditional surrender” complicates that face-saving strategy. Yet as the price of Trump’s folly mounts – new inflationary pressure, declining stock markets, worsening midterm prospects, even a disheartened Maga base – we must hope that Trump finds the wisdom to reject Netanyahu’s quest for a forever war and calls it quits.
Look again at the words …
Trump’s lawless belligerence and indifference …
Trump’s aggression …
Trump has an endless capacity to make fact-free pronouncements …
Trump’s folly mounts …
Upon what meat doth this our Caesar feed That he is grown so great? Age, thou art shamed!
… the seer said to him softly: “Ay, the Ides of March are come … but they are not gone.
No Haiku For You 