Every distraction not to write. Sit down intending to and a smell comes through the window. Could have been dried manure or that brown wood chip stuff that smells stale. No old story yet, but working the angles. The world is too intense now for me . I have always agreed with “My Motto, Apocalypse Now!” but I suspect every generation has the hubristic attitude that the world will end and they’ll have front row seats, meaning we overstress the importance of our now. Remember the hysteria around the changing of the millennium? It happened throughout the Western world in 999 A.D. Humans really totally mark their milestones. Maybe it’s because of the knowledge of inevitable demise. And all I can do for peace that really matters is to spread it locally. I’ll leave it at that, but the key to lasting peace in the world stated simply requires a semi-dissolution of the self. We as humanity have reached a level of development where responsibility and service to society as a whole- must overcome pleasure, avarice and unbridled ambition. George Washington could have been dictator or emperor or run for another term. Maybe they have term limits for health reasons. Roosevelt did three, barely started his fourth and cacked. Perhaps ambition is curbed by evolution?
I’ve been thinking about writing about food. More precise maybe grand fetes of histoire. Need to read about Black and White Ball, (three hours later) read about it, not that enthralling. Liked the Vanity Fair mag article on the Kennedy inauguration better.
Feeling that peeps are very aggressive, very competitive these days. Yikes! If there was anything in my life that was dynamic I’d write about it. Thank god, I have all these memories stored. But still, oh here’s a synchronicity for yea.
The competitive thing brought up in my mind this couple who were tough at cards, especially euchre. He is a divinity student, and he lives in the house of Yacob, right in the triangle!They complained of attic odor. They said it was creepy.
There’s this house right on the river in Hadley Massachusetts and it was really creepy. I could feel that slaves had suffered there. Slavery in the Pioneer Valley was huge until the revolution. The sheer volume of farms made it a cheap way to procure labor. The docents at Creepy Slave House say there was a secret tunnel from the house to the river, ostensibly to escape Indian and French attackers. I think it was to sneak slaves in. The house had a damp, dusty, musty, moldy smell. There’s a bathroom story attached to my visit that begins with me eating way too many sugar free candies and learning that the sweetener was Mannitol, which is baby laxative. Unfortunately, the bathroom was built just outside the summer kitchen which was a roofed only area off the kitchen. There were no doors. The bathroom was a concrete slab floor with 3 ½ walls, with an open hallway walk-in that led to a sink and a stall with a single toilet. The stall was open at the top and bottom. Of course just as the tour started just outside the bathroom hellish bowel sounds erupted. The guide quickly suggested they begin in the library instead. It was both humiliating and exhilarating.
My friend told me that, “Walking into a medical marijuana dispensary and buying it legally was the closest thing he’d get the Christmas morning excitement of a seven year old. “
Last weekend I bought the freshest streamers and muscles, oysters and lobsters. We made traditional lobster rolls; buttered lobster meat, toasted frankfurter roll a touch of lemon, and old fashioned- which is a lobster salad of onions, pepper and celery with mayonnaise. It is served cold. I like getting oysters because they’re easier to open, but clams are a little tastier and have a chew to them. Of course, you can do everything with oysters you can do to clams; chowder (hi dave), fried, I don’t think you can steam them and oyster chowder is called oyster stew.
They want this baseball stadium in Hartford. They say it will revitalize. Hartford’s been in a death spiral since ITT bought The Hartford. They lost national prominence and the downtown closed up like a Montana Main Street after the Wal-Mart opened. I think all this emphasis on “Hartford’s Coming Back “ should be replaced with the acceptance of a new identity. Maybe they could find something fun to do, like honky tonk district. Maybe a gaming restaurant or making one night a month Rave night and hold raves in Bushnell Park. Another problem out of my league. I just see vibrant cities as places that have movement and human theater on every corner. The Vieux Carre , Charleston, Church St Burlington, VT, Quincy Market in Beantown and Riverwalk in San Antonio. How pleasant Olvera St was. But Manhattan has a hustle because a huge amount foot traffic is local and they move at a quicker pace.