Life as we know it
Including: Unfamiliar quotations
The Divine Mum of Crocus Hill: “Subject: I needed to read this today:
“‘Dear Mr. Nadeau, who has lost his faith in humanity:
“‘As long as there is one upright man, as long as there is one compassionate woman, the contagion may spread and the scene is not desolate. Hope is the thing that is left to us, in a bad time. I shall get up Sunday morning and wind the clock, as a contribution to order and steadfastness.
“‘Sailors have an expression about the weather: they say, the weather is a great bluffer. I guess the same is true of our human society — things can look dark, then a break shows in the clouds, and all is changed, sometimes rather suddenly.
“‘It is quite obvious that the human race has made a queer mess of life on this planet. But as a people we probably harbor seeds of goodness that have lain for a long time waiting to sprout when the conditions are right.
“‘Man’s curiosity, his relentlessness, his inventiveness, his ingenuity have led him into deep trouble. We can only hope that these same traits will enable him to claw his way out.
“‘Hang on to your hat. Hang on to your hope. And wind the clock, for tomorrow is another day.
“‘Sincerely,
“‘E.B. White
“‘1973′”
Our theater of seasons
Photography Division (responsorial)
Cheesehead By Proxy, “back in Northern Minnesota”: “I just wanted to thank Mounds View Swede for sending in the photos of icicles, snow, animal tracks and shadows. They remind me to take time to see my world.
“I think of the colors I’d use to paint a picture of shadows on snow, and the shadows would actually be blue, not gray.
“It’s a sunny day (hurray!), and the morning shadows of the big Norway pines reach all the way across the pond. Because the snowpack went down during last weekend’s warm weather, the local critters have now ventured out to cross the ice and snow. Before that, the pond was trackless because the snow was too deep.
“This photo is the view from my window.
“When my aging uncle visited our place, he said: ‘If I could look out at this every day, I’d be a happy man.’
“I do indeed feel lucky to live here. Even during the long winter.”
The vision thing
The Doryman of Prescott, Wisconsin: “Subject: Lucky look.
“I looked out on the river this morning and at first thought that strange little clouds of steam were rising from the surface. Then I realized that they were clouds being perfectly reflected on the mirror-smooth water surface.
“Not very artistic photos, but they do describe an event that I never would be able to describe to anyone and could have easily missed.”
Bully!
Eos: “Subject: The Ice Ball King.
“When I was a kid, our neighborhood was a happy place. All of the kids in the neighborhood got along with each other, and we had fun.
“But I remember one day that was not fun at all. It was winter, and the new snow was perfect for snowballs. The kids across the street had a visitor: their cousin Paul. Paul was older than all of us, and he was mean. He always looked like he was angry, except when someone else was hurting. Then he smiled — a snarling, ugly smile.
“Our plan had been to have a snowball fight — all good fun. But Paul joined in the game, and the fight went from fun to frightening. Paul didn’t make snowballs; he was the ice ball king. He picked on everyone. Even his cousins were targets for him. They hated him as much as the rest of us did that day. We hid behind the big rock at the bottom of the hill, and behind trees.
“I’d like to say we all worked together to dethrone the king, but I don’t think we did. That was the only time I had anything to do with the brute.”
Gee, our old La Salle ran great!
The Gram With a Thousand Rules: “Subject: Cheerio to our friendly neighborhood grocer!
“My father seemed oblivious to the fact that he was a cusser. Coming back from a hospital visit to my Uncle Tom — who swore almost as much as Daddy — he said: ‘Jeezus, that damned Tom swears so much it’s terrible. Every other blankety-blank word he says is a swear word.’
“When Dad’s pals came over, he preferred that we make ourselves scarce because some of them (gasp) swore! Just when one of them would be in the middle of a funny story, you could see Dad start to twitch and motion to them that there were children in the room. The poor fellows had to have been confused, but they soon figured a way to get us out of earshot: bribery. They would give us each a penny or two, and Edith and I would bolt out of the door, down the back steps to the sidewalk, across the alley and into the little grocery store behind us. They sold a 2-inch square of chocolate called a Grade A Bar for a penny. Nora would go upstairs and put her penny in her bank. Edith and I would come home and go up into our room, savoring our candy, trying in vain to make Nora jealous while Nora would empty out her bank and count her pennies. (It was no surprise to us when Nora earned her living as a bookkeeper when she grew up.)
“Now some of those guys were big spenders and would give us each a nickel, and we could afford a Cheerio ice-cream bar. Those ice-cream bars were a temptation for Nora because every so often you would find FREE stamped on the empty stick — doubling your investment. I used to wonder if the grocer knew which were the free ones, because so often he would reach into the other side of the cooler to give you your ice-cream bar and then not seem the least bit surprised when you came right back in with your FREE stick asking for another, We were a scrawny bunch of girls, and I think he might have been doing his part to fatten us up.”
CAUTION! Words at Play!
Headline Division
Donald: “Subject: Clever headlines on ice.
“The Pioneer Press had two headlines on the front pages of recent Sports sections that caught my eye:
“Wednesday: The reference is to Matt Dumba’s first goal in 34 games. It turned out to be the winning goal in the Wild’s victory (3-2) over the Blackhawks in two overtimes: ‘WELCOME MATT.’
“Monday: The reference is to the Wild’s loss to the Avalanche (3-2): ‘HOME GROAN.’”
Lost . . . and found!
Or: The highfalutin pleasures — including: Could be verse!
The Doryman of Prescott, Wis.: “Subject: A needle in a snow stack.
“This weekend brought 5.5 inches of snow to the Wisconsin Riviera and left in its wake a tale of terrible loss and miraculous recovery.
“It was a cold and stormy night.
“After dinner out, at one of the many fine establishments in Prescott, my neighbor Tom awoke the next morning incommunicado.
“The phone was missing from his pants.
“He searched both near and far.
“It wasn’t in his jacket,
“and it wasn’t in the car.
“Checking the ‘Find My Phone’ app, he discovered that its power was at 15 percent or less and thus unable to ping information as to its whereabouts.
“It was then that Mrs. Tom opined that it might have fallen out of his pocket when he pulled the car keys out to drive home. Aha! They set off with renewed hope. That is, until they revisited the parking place, only to find it plowed as clean as their puppy’s plate.
Mrs. Tom persisted:
“Look to the snow bank at the end of the street,
“Piled up, up, up,
“piled up several feet.
“It’s the perfect place
“For a lost phone to shiver
“Until the spring thaw,
“And it washes downriver.
“He takes her phone now and walks a block to the gigantic pile and calls his number. There is a faint response, a muffled cry for help from within the frozen tomb, that sends him scurrying back home for a shovel, boots and gloves.
“He begins to dig, guided by a ringtone and a prayer.
“After only a foot or so of shoveling, the phone appears as shown in the attached photo (the little black rectangle to the left of the shovel).
“Its battery was at 1 percent, with 10 minutes remaining.
“It all ended well,
“As well as can be.
“And made a fine story
“For Tom, you and me.”
Then & Now
In the wake of the Iowa caucus, we heard from Deuce of Eagan: “Subject: A timely line.
“Recent developments brought this to mind: Will Rogers seemed to have a timely political quip always ready. He may have been ahead of his time with this one: ‘I’m not a member of any organized political party. I’m a Democrat.'”
BULLETIN BOARD SAYS: Joy of Juxtaposition!
Within 90 seconds after copy/pasting Will Rogers’s famous jibe from email into bbonward.com, we heard a candidate for the Minnesota Senate say it, word for word the same, on AM 950.
Our times
Email: “Elvis had seen a couple variations on this sign floating around cyberspace, but he saw one for real at a breakfast restaurant in Oregon last weekend.”
Know thyself!
Tim Torkildson: “Subject: Just sayin’ . . .
“The only difference between making art and making mischief is you get paid more for making mischief.”
Two paths diverged . . .
Kathy S. of St. Paul: “Subject: Roads Not Taken.
“A recent TPT show talked about the growth of I.T. firms like Sperry and Univac in the Twin Cities. — which reminded me that I could have ended up working in one of them.
“Circa 1978, I was an unemployed librarian in an overcrowded field. I thought of going into technical writing, and I interviewed with (Univac?) for a job as a technical writer. I would have created manuals explaining equipment and controls on a submarine being sold to Iran.
“I enjoyed the interview, and I think I would have enjoyed that job. Then the Shah of Iran was deposed, and the job evaporated.
“Some years later, I again looked into work as a technical writer, but the field had become harder to enter. There was required training, and experience using computer programs I hadn’t studied.
“My life would have gone in a very different direction, in another kind of technology. I might have been richer, but I probably would not have become an engineer.
“Truly a road not taken.”
BULLETIN BOARD SAYS: We would be happy to hear of others’ roads not taken. Everyone’s got at least one!
Please send your stories to bb.onward@gmail.com.
Band Name of the Day: A Queer Mess