Happy New Year!

It's All Temporary

And You Don’t Think There is a War on Christmas?

I had always loved the Nativity Scene in my hometown. It was perfectly placed in front of a small shed on the town green, the figures were unpretentious, and it told the story in a very sweet, direct way. 

This Christmas season can only be described as a nightmare scenario. I  thought I was hallucinating when I drove by the desecration of our creche. Everything possible had been done to block the site with commercial crap. If you look, really look, you might be able to see a shepherd or a wise man. Horrors! Cover him up before any children see him . . . .

Unable to let this be, I wrote a letter to our mayor, admittedly a rather uncomplimentary letter. She called me on the phone and explained that her hands were tied, our city was going to be sued if we continued to display a Nativity Scene without “an equal display of God only knows what.”  Members of the ACLU, the politically correct mafia, drive through towns all over the country looking for Nativity Scenes in public squares. As soon as they see one they inform the town that it must be removed or the town will be sued.

To quote Michael Savage, “borders, language, culture.” We, as a nation, are losing all three, and at the very heart of it is politically correct thugs doing everything possible to eliminate Christmas from our calendar. We need to fight back before there is nothing left to fight for.

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Just Another Bozo on the Bus

Joseph Dearest, Joseph Mine: Mormon Tabernacle Choir

An answer to the war on Christmas: 

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How to Wrap a Cat for Christmas

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Woof

It's All Temporary

Villagers from Quinhagak, Alaska

This video from the small Yupiq Eskimo Village of Quinhagak, Alaska , was a school computer project intended for the other Yupiq villages in the area. Much to the villagers' shock, over a half million people have viewed it.

It's All Temporary

Seasons Greetings from the North Pole

The recent announcement that Donner and Blitzen have elected to take the early reindeer retirement package has triggered a good deal of concern about whether they will be replaced, and about other restructuring decisions at the North Pole

Streamlining was appropriate as the North Pole no longer dominates the season's gift distribution business. Home shopping channels and mail order catalogues have diminished our market share and we can not sit idly by and permit further erosion of the profit picture.

The reindeer downsizing was made possible through the purchase of a late model Japanese sled for my annual trip.  Improved productivity from Dasher and Dancer, who summered at the Harvard Business School, is anticipated and should take up the slack with no discernible loss of service.  Reduction in reindeers will also lessen airborne environmental emissions for which the North Pole has been cited and received unfavorable press.

I am pleased to inform you and yours that Rudolph's role will not be disturbed. Tradition still counts for something here at the North Pole. Management denies, in the strongest language possible, the earlier leak that Rudolph's nose got that way due to substance abuse.  Calling Rudolph a "lush who was into the sauce and never did pull his share of the load" was an unfortunate comment, made by one of Santa's helpers and taken out of context at a tine of year when helpers are known to be under executive stress.

Today's global challenges require the North Pole to continually look for better, more competitive measures.   Effective immediately, the following economy measures are to take place in the "Twelve Days of Christmas" program.

*The partridge will be retained, but the pear tree never turned out to be the cash crop forecasted.  It will be replaced by a plastic hanging plant, providing considerable savings in maintenance.

*The two turtle doves represent a redundancy that is simply not cost effective.  In addition, their romance during work hours could not be condoned.  The positions are therefore eliminated.

*The three French hens will remain intact. After all, everyone loves the French.  The four calling birds were replaced by an automated voice mail system, with a call waiting option.  An analysis is underway to determine who the birds have been calling, how often and how long they talked.

The five golden rings have been put on hold by the Board of Directors.  Maintaining a portfolio based on one commodity could have negative implications for institutional investors. Diversification into other precious metals as well as a mix of T-Bills and high technology stocks appear to be in order.

*The six geese-a-laying constitutes a luxury which can no longer be afforded.  It has long been felt that the production rate of one egg per goose per day is an example of the decline in productivity.  Three geese will be let go, and an upgrading in the election procedure by personnel will assure management that from now on every goose it gets will be a good one.

*The seven swans-a-swimming is obviously a number chosen in better times. The function is primarily decorative.  Mechanical swans are on order.  The current swans will be retrained to learn some new strokes and therefore enhance their outplacement.

*As you know, the eight maids-a-milking concept has been under heavy scrutiny by the EEOC.  A male/female balance in the work force is being sought.  The more militant maids consider this a dead-end job with no upward mobility.  Automation of the process may permit the maids to try a-mending, a-mentoring and a-mulching.

*Nine ladies dancing has always been an odd number.  This function will be phased out as these individuals grow older and can no longer do the steps.

*Ten Lords-a-leaping is overkill.  The high cost of Lords plus the expense of international air travel prompted the Compensation Committee to suggest replacing this group with ten out-of-work congressmen. While leaping ability may be somewhat sacrificed, the savings are significant because we expect an oversupply of unemployed congressmen this year.

*Eleven pipers piping and twelve drummers drumming is a simple case of the band getting too big. A substitution with a string quartet, a cutback on new music and no uniforms will produce savings which will drop right down to the bottom line.  We can expect a substantial reduction in assorted people, fowl, animals, and other expenses.

* Though incomplete, studies indicate stretching deliveries over twelve days is inefficient.  If we can drop ship one day, service levels will be improved.

Regarding the lawsuit filed by the attorney's association  seeking expansion to include the legal profession "thirteen-lawyers-a-suing" action is pending.

Lastly, it is not beyond further consideration that deeper cuts may be necessary in the future to stay competitive.  Should this happen, the Board will request management to scrutinize the Snow White Program to see if seven dwarfs is the right number.

ASAP

Always Say A Prayer

While meditating this morning a beautiful long-necked creature (a swan?) appeared to the left of the flame.  Even more haunting was a perfectly shaped heart framing the wick.  By the time I reached for my camera the heart began to loose it's shape, but I will never forget it. What a beautiful sign.

It's all temporary

Deck the Halls - flash mob

Carlson School of Management

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Julia

Here she is, a few minutes old, born 12/12/11, 6 pounds, 10 ounces, but that's not important.  What is important is that she looks like a little Buddhist monk just waking up from a nine month's meditation, and she arrived, sticking her tongue out at us. I love that!  The girl has a sense of humor. There is nothing like looking into the eyes of a newborn, they are so wise, and we need their wisdom now more than ever. Welcome little Julia! 

THE CHILD ANGEL by Rabindranath Tagore

Let your life come amongst them like a flame of light, my child,

unflickering and pure, and delight them into silence.

They are cruel in their greed and their envy,

their words are like hidden knives thirsting for blood.

Go and stand amidst their scowling hearts, my child,

and let your gentle eyes fall upon them like the

forgiving peace of the evening over the strife of the day.

Let them see your face, my child, and thus know the

meaning of all things, let them love you and love each other.

It's All Temporary

Reflections from a Pet Sitter: Buddha

Chapunga Stone Sculpture, Loveland, Colorado

It's All Temporary

The Holidays

An excerpt from HOMER, MY LIFE by Homer.  Homer lives with his human, Patty, who works in a beauty Salon called Curl Up and Dye. Mark is Patty’s boyfriend, Tony and Christopher work with Patty at the salon.

One night Patty and I were driving home from Curl Up and Dye and I noticed little lights, like magic, sprinkled on trees, doors and along the roofs of the humans' houses.  When I see those lights, I know it is what the humans call "the holidays." From my bed in Patty's car, it is all I see out the window, rows and rows of little lights and sometimes fake reindeer with lights around their stomachs and wrapped around their ears. Humans hate real deer because they eat the food they plant in their gardens, but they can't get enough of the fake deer. Go figure. I guess because those deer can't eat anything. They don't even have any insides, just a skeleton with lights wrapped around it.

Sometimes a fat man human wearing black boots and a red suit perches on the roof, usually in a crumby little sled with more deer attached to the front of the sled. They want us to think the deer are pulling the sled, but they're not. It's dangerous the way he sits up there on the roof.  He is called Santa Claus, and there is more than one, you can see them standing in front of stores ringing bells with big black buckets.  Humans put money in the buckets but never any food. 

Once Patty took me to Dr. Dodge's office (My veterinarian) and there was one of those Santa Claus's right in his office. That was awful. I get nervous when I go to Dr. Dodge's anyway, and for good reason, so I didn't want to go in, but I saw a lot of other dogs, so I went. More than anything I like being with other dogs. We all got in a line which was the best part of that day, the sniffing and snuffing while we waited. I almost forgot why we were there but when there was no one else in front of me I found out in a hurry. Face to face with two shiny black boots, I looked up past two bright red knees and into the eyes of that Santa Claus with a fake white scraggly beard hanging off his chin. 

"Ho ho ho, who have we here"? 

"This is Homer, Santa," said Patty. She sounded as proud as she could be.

"Hi Homer, ho ho ho." What happened next was not so funny, we could have done without the ho ho ho's. Even though I am low to the ground, I am a lot heavier than I look and Santa found that out in a hurry when he tried to pick me up and put me on his lap. Half way up his face turned as red as his suit and he let out a snort. No more ho ho hos out of him.  I growled and slipped right through his shiny red arms and back on the floor. 

"Santa, are you all right,"? said Patty, all upset. Although a bit ruffled, Santa was ok, but Patty never did get a picture of me sitting on his lap. She had to take it with me on the floor next to his boots. She loved the picture anyway, and Santa gave me a chewy before we left, so the day wasn't a total disaster. 

While we were at Dr. Dodge's, Mark put a tree up in the living room. That's another thing the humans will always do during "the holidays", they put trees in their houses and hang balls and shiny stuff on it and fasten an angel on the top so it can't fly away. I feel sorry for that angel, the humans should let it come and go. They are afraid if they do that, the angel might fly away and never come back, and I wouldn't blame it.  Angels like peace and quiet and these humans can be louder than ever during "the holidays". It is very confusing because when I see a tree I want to lift my leg on it, but I remember what Hilde, my mother, told me about never peeing indoors. Trees belong outdoors. 

"Oh, Mark, it's beautiful, the sweetest Christmas tree I have ever seen." 

"It's not even decorated yet, Pat." 

"But it's perfect." 

"I talked to Mike today. He's beginning to line up his cast for the Cathedral Christmas pageant and he wants me to play the trumpet this year." 

"Great. " 

"He wanted to know if you wanted to sing in the choir." 

"Of course I do, and Tony will be a wise man again." My visit to Santa had pretty well worn me out so I was taking a major power nap during this conversation. 

"Mark, I want Homer to be in the pageant." 

"The last time I checked, I didn't see any Basset Hounds in nativity scene paintings at the museum, Patty." 

"So, we'll dress him up as a sheep." 

"Yeah, right." 

"Oh come on, Mark." 

"Let me talk to Mike." I woke up just as Mark said that, so I didn't know what he was going to talk to Mike about, I only knew they weren't talking to each other any more. They were kissing. 

"Deck your balls with strands of ivy, fa la la la la la la la la."

Patty and I were at Tony's friend, Christopher's apartment with Tony who was singing as he cooked something that smelled wonderful. Tony was in a good mood. He chopped peppers and onions and carrots the same way he mixes hair colors at Curl Up and Dye -- his hands just fly through the air. A big black frying pan sizzled on the stove waiting to receive everything he chopped with a hiss and a spit. 

Every once in awhile he and Christopher would look at each other and giggle, I don't know why, they knew some joke we didn't -- or maybe it is just that Christopher laughs most of the time. I have to say that he is one of my favorite humans because he has the most wonderful laugh. Humans call it a belly laugh, which is a perfect way to describe it, like an approaching locomotive building up steam until the room just rocks. It starts quietly somewhere in his stomach (which is pretty big)  travels up to his shoulders which begin to go up and down like a yo yo when the laugh takes hold and then continues up through his throat until waves of laughter escape out of his mouth.  You have to be there.

Some humans live in houses and some live in apartments. I'm not sure what the difference is, except I think apartments have to be smaller. Christopher's apartment was really one big room, the kitchen and the living room all together. Christopher sat at a table in the living room in front of a machine that said "SINGER". When he put his NIKE on a pedel on the floor the machine would go "whirrrrr" as he guided a big furry thing in and out of the machine. 

"OK, Homer, we're ready for a fitting," said Christopher, shaking that furry thing back and forth. Lint and fur flew out of it, and I backed away, it gave me the creeps. Christopher sews for a living, he makes costumes for a theatre troupe, so he knows what he is doing. It had the same kind of holes my sweater has so I knew what was coming.

I could sense one of Christopher's laughs building up when he looked at me and it was embarrassing. I was embarrassed in front of Patty and Tony and Christopher, even though they told me how wonderful I looked, so can imagine how I felt on Christmas Eve in front of hundreds of humans?

"Don't worry, Homey, Christopher will be right there with you," said Patty.  "He is going to be your very own shepherd and he will stand next to you during the whole pageant. Christopher patted the top of my woolly head which was attached to my woolly body. Boy, if he ever started laughing in the middle of the pageant, I bet even Mary and Joseph wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. 

"I'm going to bring a pocket full of biscuits, Homer, and you can eat them all night long." 

"Mark will there there, and I will come marching down the aisle with the choir so we'll all be together. And you'll see Tony march down the aisle in his wise man clothes," said Patty, her blue eyes all serious and sparkling at the same time. All this was supposed to make me feel better about being a pretend sheep, but it didn't. 

"I'll be carrying a little gold box full of hash," said Tony. "We can all get stoned." 

"Tony! You can't get stoned in front of a thousand people in the cathedral on Christmas Eve," said Patty. 

"It's a gift for the Christ Child and the Christ Child will share his gift." 

"You're supposed to bring the Christ Child frankincense, not marijuana." 

"I'll bring that baby frankincense AND marijuana. Now let's eat." 

How Attraction Happens by Rumi

Moses is talking to someone drunk with worshipping the golden
calf.  What happened to your

doubt?  You used to be so skeptical of me. The Red Sea parted.
Food came every day in the

wilderness for forty years.  A fountain sprang out of a rock.
You saw these things

and still reject the idea of prophethood.  Then the magician
Samiri does a trick to make

the metal cow low, and immediately you kneel!  What did that
hollow statue say?  Have you

heard a dullness like your own?  This is how attraction
happens: people with nothing

they value delight in worthlessness.  Someone who thinks
there's no meaning or purpose

feels drawn to images of futility.  Each moves to be with
its own.  The ox does not turn

toward a lion.  Wolves have no interest in Joseph, unless
to devour him.  But if a wolf

is cured of wolfishness, it will sleep close by Joseph,
like a dog in the presence of

meditators.  Soul companionship gives safety and light
to a cave full of friends.

Rumi

It's All Temporary

The Beauty of Mathematics

My Week with Marilyn

Because I have been fascinated with the complex persona of Marilyn Monroe for years, I have read everything I could get my hands on about her, and was curious to see My Week with Marilyn as soon as it opened.  I loved it although it would not be everyone's cup of tea. 

Shortly after Marilyn married Arthur Miller, the couple flew to England. She was to star in a movie with Laurence Olivier, a huge feather in her cap. The movie was fraught with almost insurmountable problems from the getgo. Olivier, who had never appeared in a movie was used to appearing in front of a large audience. Marilyn wanted desperately to do theatre, but had only appeared in movies.

In addition, her addiction to drugs and alcohol was beginning to take hold, she had a terrible time memorizing her lines, and often appeared on the set hours late. Complicating matters was her dependance on Paula Strausberg, her drama coach, who was just about as weird as she could be.

The plot was almost secondary to the acting, camera work and lighting. Michelle Williams was wonderful as Marilyn, and Eddie Redmayne, the young man on the set who falls in love with her delivered his role with a poignancy perfectly suited to his predicament. What I loved best about the movie was that it proved once again that although, flawed, Marilyn was a marvelous actress.  How sad.  As time passed in her life she became increasingly tortured due to her inability to release herself from "Marilyn" and become the brilliant actress she might have been.

It's All Temporary

The End

I Don't Remember

I Don't Remember...

by Ash L Bennett

I don't remember, any more,
The exact shape of your hands
As I held them in mine,
Caressed them,
Memorized the length of your fingers,
The depth of your calluses.

I don't remember, any more,
Exactly your height, how much
Taller than me
You were, where
My head rested on your chest
When you held me tightly close.

I don't remember, any more,
Your scent, when we lay together
Creating our own
Magic rhythm,
Matching our heartbeats as we
Touched the sky, together.

I don't remember, any more,
The sound of your voice, calling
My name as though
It were a song
Within itself, a precious treasure
You valued with all your being.

And I don't remember, any more,
The color of your eyes, the shape
Of your lips,
Only...
How your eyes crinkled at the corners
And your laugh, as you told me,

"I love you."

Thanksgiving Day Prayer

Thanksgiving Day Prayer
by Walter Rauschenbusch (1861–1918)

For the wide sky and the blessed sun,
For the salt sea and the running water,
For the everlasting hills
And the never-resting winds,
For trees and the common grass underfoot.
We thank you for our senses
By which we hear the songs of birds,
And see the splendor of the summer fields,
And taste of the autumn fruits,
And rejoice in the feel of the snow,
And smell the breath of the spring.
Grant us a heart wide open to all this beauty;
And save our souls from being so blind
That we pass unseeing
When even the common thornbush
Is aflame with your glory,
O God our creator,
Who lives and reigns for ever and ever.

It's All Temporary

The Parrot

When Uncle Charley died of old age, Bill was bequeathed his uncle's prized Amazon parrot. This parrot was fully grown -- with a bad attitude and a worse vocabulary.  Every other word was an expletive.  Those that weren't expletives were, to say the very least, extremely rude.

Bill tried hard to change the bird's attitude and was constantly saying polite words, playing soft music, anything he could think of to try and set a good example.

Nothing worked.  Exasperated, he yelled at the bird.  But the bird only got louder.  Then he shook the parrot. But the bird just got more angry and more rude.

Finally, in a moment of desperation, Bill put the parrot in the freezer.  For a few moments he heard the bird squawking, kicking, and screaming.

     

Then, suddenly, all was quiet.  Bill was frightened that he might have hurt his dead uncle's prized parrot and quickly opened the freezer door.  The parrot calmly stepped out onto Bill's extended arm and said:  "I am truly sorry that I might have offended you with my language and action and I humbly ask your forgiveness.  I will now, from this day forth, endeavor to correct my behavior so that such an ill-perceived outburst never again occurs."

Bill was completely astonished at the bird's change in attitude and was about to ask what caused such a dramatic change when the parrot continued, "May I ask what the chicken did?"

Swimming Update

Good news on my swimming progress - I am enjoying it beyond my wildest expectations. Part of the pleasure is due to three purchases: goggles, fins, and a bathing cap.  For the first time in my life I am able to do an honest to goodness free style, probably due to the fact that the goggles and cap prevent  water from invading my ears and eyes. I stopped counting laps because I can never remember what lap I am on. I swim and as I swim, I either recite my Alexander Technique mantra (my back is lengthening and widening, my back is lengthening and widening, my arms are lengthening, my legs are lengthening) or I write scripts for my puppets in my head. 

The picture was taken by one of the girls at the Y. I emailed it to my two sons which caused a flurry of emails.  They were both horrified at my bathing suit: From Josh: Great picture! Now you just need a new suit, mom. Is that a built in skirt around the waist?? Reply from Alex:  I think she sewed it on after she bought it. Or maybe it's velcro. She keeps the skirt on when she trains and then rips it off when she is on the blocks before a race. Needless to say, I have been shamed into ordering a skirtless bathing suit on line.  It is purple.  I will look like a plum paddling up and down the lanes as my back lengthens and widens.

Tara and Bella

Reflections from a Pet Sitter: Hoover

"No doggie does it like you, the way that you do, Hoover, no doggie does it like you." I sing to Hoover, a 13 year old Basset Hound, as I tug him up the hill.  He is well named, as he looks exactly like that trusty vacuum, and no doggie does anything quite like Hoover.  Those mournful eyes look at me sadly as we plod along, his floppy ears dusting the gutter, always cleaning something.

Today I noticed a subtle lilt to his step. I use the term sparingly, as this little bounce would not be discernible to all but the most observant eye.  I asked him if he was in a good mood and he said yes, his mother had left mood music on the radio for him and it made him happy.  I remarked that he could listen to the OJ trial* but he said no. Marcia Clark made him very nervous.  He prefers the music.  He went on to say that he knows what happened that night, anyway, Nicole's Akida told him, and he thinks we humans could save ourselves a lot of fuss if we would just ask the dog.

I walk Hoover twice a day when his parents go away, and he is so very grateful.  Hoover cannot be rushed.  Ever. You have heard of the four minute mile? With Hoover it is the four inch mile -- he is a very thorough sniffer.  In our hurry-up, get-it-done-yesterday world, he teaches me patience, and so I am as grateful to Hoover as he is to me.

We have a mutual admiration thing going.  When it is time for me to leave, the garage door swings closed, and he looks at me as if my departure is breaking his heart in two.  Never have I known any living creature to look so upset when I leave. We discussed this during one of our journeys up the hill, but he said not to let this upset me.  One of the songs on the radio talked about laughing on the outside, crying on the inside, but he said with him, it is just the opposite; he's crying on the outside but laughing on the inside.  We both got a good chuckle out of this as we continued our four minute inch.

----------------------------------------

*Written during the OJ trial!

Jason Sho Green

A fellow blogger forwarded me this: Sometimes doodling can get out of control. From afar these amazing quilted assemblages of ball point pen marvelings appear to look like well executed portraits. Up close, you have bought yourself a ticket to an entire world of doodles. Wow.

www.jasonshogreen.com

The Ties That Bind

Chapungu Stone Sculptures, Loveland, Colorado

Periodically I will post more pictures of the Chapungu stone sculptures.  Walking around the sculpture park in Loveland can be almost overwhelming. The logistics of transporting these statues from Zimbabwe to Colorado are more than I can imagine.

" . . . the Zimbabwe sculptors create art that is simple, authentic, rich, sensitive, imaginary, and has unique dimension.  Themes of father, mother, child, family, hardship, loss, humor and joy are universal facts of life. These artists are adept in bringing collective happenings to the present moment in stone. John Ostlund

www.chapungusculpturepark.com/

She Was Beside Herself

I have not reached that enviable position of "being comfortable in my own skin" so I manufacture a variety of tricks to convince myself that I am actually ok.  Being beside myself is one of them. It eliminates the necessity of facing an unidentifiable obstacle alone. The obstacle could be almost anything, probably benign, but you never know.

1) To have an identical twin is a nifty trick, especially when she is brave.  My twin seems to be everywhere these days, popping up when I least expect her. She just returned from getting a flu shot, as well as a whooping cough booster which was sweet of her because she knows I hate needles.  Strange, Jan got the shot but my arm hurts . . . 

Anne

Jan

2) And then there are the puppets. The puppets play a far different role, they don't accompany me on my daily journey but remain home and only come out when I demand a performance. These performances are frequent, my puppets are much happier when kept busy.  They bring out the best in me, they bring out the worst in me. What is important is that they tell me what I need to know about myself.  Therapy is too expensive, and besides, my puppets are more fun. 

Gracie and Deedee

Nick

So many pictures this time, but I think they were all necessary, don't you?

HIS EYE IS ON THE SPARROW

A female bluebird was hit by a car as she swooped low across the road, and the condition was soon fatal.

Her male mate brought her food and attended her with love and compassion.

He brought her food again, but was shocked to find her dead.

He tried to move her - a rarely seen effort.

Aware his mate was dead and would never come back to him

Again, he cried out with adoring love

And stood beside her with sadness and sorrow.

Millions of people were touched after seeing these photos in all continents. The photographer sold these pictures for a nominal fee to the famous magazine in France. All copies of that edition sold out on the day these pictures were published.

And many people think animals and birds don't have brains or feelings. You have just witnessed love and sorrow felt by God's creatures. The Bible says that God knows when a sparrow falls. Imagine how much He cares for us!

I May Not Be Much, But I'm All I Think About All Day Long

"a wild, fresh wind blowing. . ." by Charles Bukowski

a wild, fresh wind blowing…

I should not have blamed only my father, but,

he was the first to introduce me to

raw and stupid hatred.

he was really best at it: anything and everything made him

mad-things of the slightest consequence brought his hatred quickly

to the surface

and I seemed to be the main source of his

irritation.

I did not fear him

but his rages made me ill at heart

for he was most of my world then

and it was a world of horror but I should not have blamed only

my father

for when I left that… home… I found his counterparts

everywhere: my father was only a small part of the

whole, though he was the best at hatred

I was ever to meet.

but others were very good at it too: some of the 

foremen, some of the street bums, some of the women

I was to live with,

most of the women, were gifted at 

hating-blaming my voice, my actions, my presence

blaming me

for what they, in retrospect, had failed

at.

I was simply the target of their discontent

and in some real sense

they blamed me

for not being able to rouse them

out of a failed past; what they didn't consider was

that I had my troubles too-most of them caused by

simply living with them.

I am a dolt of a man, easily made happy or even

stupidly happy almost without cause

and left alone I am mostly content.

but I've lived so often and so long with this hatred

that

my only freedom, my only peace is when I am away from

them, when I am anywhere else, no matter where-

some fat old waitress bringing me a cup of coffee

is in comparison

like a fresh wild wind blowing.