.....Well, I better get started with something Ruthie, my English cuzzin wants to know, and that's my favorite poem. And that is Burns' "As Fond Kiss". I also am tuned in to Robert Burns' "To a Mouse". Both poems do something to me, and I don't know how to describe it. But that is what poetry is supposed to accomplish; it should do something to you. If you don't have a book of English poetry, type the poem onto Google-- if you have a computer.
Ruthie says if I'm alone I should go out to a bar and talk to my friends. I can't do this either. I don't drive. All my friends are dead or mentally deficient, and the folks in the building we live in are in their 70s as is RH+, and they only talk to her because she's in her 70s as well. Im 90 and perhaps people think my frontal lobe is damaged--or I somehow intimidate them.
So right now I have one friend in England and one here--Mike. But we only converse with Mike over a prime rib. Luckily, however, RH+ has a ton of friends--some of them from East Meadow where our kids grew up, and the weird thing is that these women are widows, and they were first good friends of my exe. And here they took to RH+ like the wink of the cat's eye. (I really don't know anything about cats.)
This morning I thought I had the perfect solution. I would go to Ilana's graduation also even though I vowed never to fly again. But a person could unvow if absolutely necessary. After all, I won't have to say any Hail Marys. Then, quicker than a vulture salivating over a lion's dung, it came to me. How were we supposed to get my scooter into the car when we deplane in NY? (I really don't know too much about lions--only from the show) There was no way to encar with the scooter. We would have to bring the waiker and pray. I can't get very far with a walker without pain.
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Hi Baron, sorry I didn't realize how physically disabled you are: the answer to that one is to buy in care. I thought you just didn't like to be on your own. Anyway, on my part, I offer profuse apologies for my mistake, and on your part, you're going to go to Ilana's graduation if possible, and will, I hope, solve your problem that way.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you like Burns. (But don't call his poetry "English" in the presence of Scottish people - they'll tear you limb from limb!) My favourite poem by Burns is "Now Westlin Winds." It's about many things, but the bit that "gets home to me," as you so rightly describe it, is about how although there can be brutality in the world, yet still there is room for love.
Mike - if you spend any time in suspended animation, let me know before it starts, and I'll happily join you. Even though "the best-laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley," I'd still do my best to be there!
Love to all, Cuzzin Ruth
Best invitation I've received in years.. I'll attend to the registration, When all is in order, I'll get back to you. I'll fax the necessary papers for your perusal and signature. No kosher meals will be required. Love....Mike Herbstman
DeleteCats are easy to understand, Baron. They're all more or less stupid: but they are pretty. They combine the fun of a fur coat and a moving toy. And if you like cuddles, they are quite useful, because they're about the same size and weight as a human baby. Unlike dogs, they are of too lowly an order of animals to have a theory of mind: and that makes some of their behaviour hilarious. That's it, really. Cuz R
ReplyDeleteGee, thanks, Mike! I'm a bit puzzled as to your remark about the kosher meals. My understanding of suspended animation is that no meals at all, either kosher or trafe, are necessary. However, if the meals from which we REFRAIN from eating are all kosher, then that should fit the bill admirably. Ruth xx
ReplyDeleteAlso, Mike, it occurs to me that being in suspended animation would solve the "playing pool with a rope" problem, 'cos nothing could happen anyway. We'd be like the lover and the maiden on Keats' Grecian urn. (See: "Ode to a Grecian Urn," John Keats.) (Baron - hope you're impressed!) Cuzzin Ruth
ReplyDeleteJust trying yo be cute with the remartk about kosher food. Btw, In Brooklyn, NY, where I grew up, I thought it was ode to a greasy urn....Today, I'm getting the necessary innoculations.required for the trip I also owe Rh+ $16.00, since I left my wallet home,the other day, when the three of us ate out. Remind me to pay up before embarking. Time and space will be different on our voyage, and I don't want my family embroiled in a law suit. Rhoda, very generously, said that I shoould forget the debt, but I couldn't do that to such a sweet young thing. Love...Mike Herbstman
DeleteHappy New Year Dr. Ross. Glad to see your blog continues--typos and all. Keep up the good work. Wishing you a healthy and peaceful 2015.
ReplyDeleteMike - "greasy urn" is a good 'un! Here in Limey-land, we used to have a joke: "What's a Grecian urn?" To which the answer was: "40 drachmas a week!" Then it changed from drachmas to euros, when Greece entered the eurozone. Nowadays the answer is: "NOTHING! They're all unemployed!!" on account of the eurozone's having been such a disaster for the Greeks, although most of that was their fault. THEY, however, blame everyone else for their economic woes, including the Jews. My answer to that sort of rubbish is: "Really? We do so much, we must be REALLY CLEVER!" Ruth
ReplyDeleteNote for language lovers: "drachma" comes from an Ancient Greek middle (q.v.) verb, drassomai, which means "to grab." "Drachma" literally means "the grabbable thingies!" A lot of A/Gk is cool 'n' jokey, just like that. It's a pity that the wretched Greeks have spent the last 2,500 years LOSING civilization! Cuzzin Ruth