Los Angeleno by birth, Northwesterner by choice, Second-hander by nature. Librarian, housebound chef, father, and lowly subject ruled over by the needs and whims of a very old house. Partial to Mexican, Italian and Vietnamese cookery but will eat damn near anything. Collector of many strange things..the result is chaos and anarchy and a very pleasant place to live. There is pleasure in accumulation, not just "collecting": music, books and film, in all their multi-formated glory. Outsider artists and those kinds of prints you would recognize if you took liberal studies classes in college. Cooking implements and gadgets for recipes still untried or those ventured. Glasses for most types of libations. Flowers in the garden, herbs in the pot. It's a life of the senses and a good home life reflects that. Walking helps take in all the rest. Requires no special equipment, opens up the pores, brightens the taste buds, clears the decks for further adventures, puts on the miles, widens the eyes and helps fuel the imagination.
Live boldly, play graciously and love with all your heart knowing that true love comes only once or twice in this lifetime. Speaking of which..donde estas, Empress of my Heart?
"Lack imagination and miss the better story" Yann Martel
"Life is a great adventure and I want to say to you, accept it in such spirit. I want to see you face it ready to do the best that lies in you to win out. To go down without complaining and abiding by the result....the worst of all fears is the fear ofliving." Theodore Roosevelt, Jr.
"Not I - not anyone else, can travel that road for you You must travel it for yourself" Walt Whitman
And above all, friends should possess the rare gift of sitting. They should be able, no, eager, to sit for hours-three, four, six-over a meal of soup and wine and cheese, as well as one of twenty fabulous courses.
Then, with good friends of such attributes, and good food on the board, and good wine in the pitcher, we may well ask,
Ex-railroad man, homeless guy and library patron. He loved Westerns, biscuits and gravy, his cigarettes and old cars. More than anything, he loved to laugh. Laughing wasn't always easy to do, but he laughed alot. Dammit, Patrick, you're going to be missed.
Sunday, June 16, 2013
Every time I get to that point where I am asking myself "what cool new thing could possibly happen next?" then something nifty and wonderful comes up and takes me down an unexpected path of delight. This time it was the gift of the moment, a wonderment in the form of a couple of bikes, a sunny late afternoon, a bit of time to burn and a boy to wear down a bit before stories and bed time.
I'm always amazed how the small gods interact with us mere mortals, take our expectations and turn them on their ear. It had already been a good day, a busman's holiday kind of day filled with book buying, library visits and comrade support. It was made better by a light and savory meal thrown together on the fly, a warm day in the Valley and an evening's agenda that pretty much was wide open. But a bike ride was something that neither my Esteemed Companion nor I saw coming. A walk, definitely. A trip down the drive to check on a neighbor's garden for marauding pigs, certainly. But a bike ride? It was the peeking into the shed, seeing the tandem bike just sitting there, that set that little man's imagination ablaze.
So, bike riding it was, the three of us meandering down a country lane to a tired, algae packed creek in the crisp late part of a day. We had plenty of light, practically no traffic and a lane that rivaled anything a big city bike path could have ever thought to throw our way. And while the sun went down a bit earlier behind the mountain than was expected the twilight still got us home well before the mosquitos ever thought to look for us.
It was all good. Somehow a bike ride, with all it's requisite bumps and races and different muscles to explore, is a grand alternative to the walks I take almost every day. Seeing the land from two wheels, or rather, three counting the tandem, was a delight. We covered far more ground than we would have otherwise, we got in something new that now can be seem as a regular kind of joint venture and exercise for us all but more it let us see that our days, sometimes in line to be one way, can be pulled in another and be a really cool thing., indeed.
Here's to serendipity, to boyish joy and to play that comes oh so naturally to this little group of ours!