Those who learn from history are condemned to the frustration of watching everyone else who didn’t learn it repeat it.
Headline in today’s newspaper: “Portland weather: Sunny weekend, but only during day”. Doh!
OK feel free to laugh at me, but I just discovered that home-made pesto on toast is awesome. Also yummy: blanched broccoli crowns, swiped across butter and a dab of salt, just like sweet corn.
Missed the Superbowl, but watched the amazing Oscar-nominated documentary shorts at the Hollywood Theater. My pick for the Oscar: Redemption, about the NYC “canners” who survive by scrounging recyclables. But all five nominees were very moving, including Inocente (about a homeless girl determined to become an artist), Kings Point (about a retirement community in Florida), Mondays at Racine (about a beauty shop that donates a day a month to women going through chemotherapy), and Open Heart (about a hospital in Africa that provides free treatment for poor victims of heart disease, often children). Update: Inocente won the Oscar.
Tom to me (via Twitter): Could you send some daylight back this way?
Me to Tom (via Twitter): Can’t send that, but will this help? http://writersalmanac.publicradio.org/index.php?date=2012/11/03
Tom: That’ll do nicely!
Here’s the actual poem, The Fall Almost Nobody Sees, by David Budbill. Click the link to hear it read by Garrison Keillor.
Everybody’s gone away.
They think there’s nothing left to see.
The garish colors’ flashy show is over.
Now those of us who stay
hunker down in sweet silence,
blessed emptiness among
gold tamarack, a few
remaining pale yellow
sedge and fern in shades
from beige to darkening red
to brown to almost black,
and all this in front of, below,
among blue-green spruce and fir
and white pine,
all of it under gray skies,
chill air, all of us waiting
in the somber dank and rain,
waiting here in quiet, chill
waiting for the snow.
I was playing around with the Poetry Foundation‘s smartphone app, where you can search for poems by subject or mood, or even use a roulette-wheel style randomizer, and I found this lovely poem that seems very relevant to our Twitter-oriented culture. (Even though it predates Twitter by 8 years.)
I agree with Nancy’s observation that this poem reminds her of when she and I were first dating long-distance :-).
The Quiet World by Jeffrey McDaniel (1998)
In an effort to get people to look
into each other’s eyes more,
and also to appease the mutes,
the government has decided
to allot each person exactly one hundred
and sixty-seven words, per day.
When the phone rings, I put it to my ear
without saying hello. In the restaurant
I point at chicken noodle soup.
I am adjusting well to the new way.
Late at night, I call my long distance lover,
proudly say I only used fifty-nine today.
I saved the rest for you.
When she doesn’t respond,
I know she’s used up all her words,
so I slowly whisper I love you
thirty-two and a third times.
After that, we just sit on the line
and listen to each other breathe.