Quotes of the week
“Providing healthcare to the uninsured is a jobs killer, while not providing healthcare is merely a people killer”
~Steven Colbert
There's a legend that Ernest Hemingway was once challenged to create a six-word story, and he said, "For sale: baby shoes, never worn."
Meditation of the week
Before he closed his eyes, he let them wander round his old room . . . familiar and friendly things . . . which were so glad to see him again and could always be counted on for the same simple welcome.
--Kenneth Grahame
When they moved into the house, the room at the top of the stairs was just a junk room. As the years passed, they slowly transformed the room into a guest room.
When they decided they needed another voice in the house, they transformed the room again. Out went the fold-out couch, in came a crib and rocking chair; off went the art gallery prints from the walls, up went Winnie-the-Pooh. It was no longer a guest room, but a place for the baby, a new - and permanent - member of the family.
We always have room for more in our lives. When we are ready for it, what we need for growth will emerge.
--Kenneth Grahame
When they moved into the house, the room at the top of the stairs was just a junk room. As the years passed, they slowly transformed the room into a guest room.
When they decided they needed another voice in the house, they transformed the room again. Out went the fold-out couch, in came a crib and rocking chair; off went the art gallery prints from the walls, up went Winnie-the-Pooh. It was no longer a guest room, but a place for the baby, a new - and permanent - member of the family.
We always have room for more in our lives. When we are ready for it, what we need for growth will emerge.
Poem of the Week
Miracle of Bubbles
A woman drives to the video store
to rent a movie. It is Saturday night,
she is thinking of nothing in particular,
perhaps of how later she will pop popcorn
or hold hands with her husband and pretend
they are still in high school. On the way home
a plane drops from the sky, the wing shearing
her roof of her car, killing her instantly.
Here is a death, it could happen to any of us.
Her husband will struggle the rest of his days
to give shape to an event that does not mean
to be understood. Since memory cannot operate
without plot, he chooses the romantic — how young
she was, her lovely waist, or the ironic — if only
she had lost her keys, stopped for pizza.
At the precise moment the plane spiraled
out of control, he was lathering shampoo
into his daughter's hair, blond and fine
as cornsilk, in love with his life, his
daughter, the earth (for "cornsilk" is how
he thought of her hair), in love with the miracle
of bubbles, how they rise in a slow dance,
swell and shimmer in the steamy air, then
dissolve as though they never were.
to rent a movie. It is Saturday night,
she is thinking of nothing in particular,
perhaps of how later she will pop popcorn
or hold hands with her husband and pretend
they are still in high school. On the way home
a plane drops from the sky, the wing shearing
her roof of her car, killing her instantly.
Here is a death, it could happen to any of us.
Her husband will struggle the rest of his days
to give shape to an event that does not mean
to be understood. Since memory cannot operate
without plot, he chooses the romantic — how young
she was, her lovely waist, or the ironic — if only
she had lost her keys, stopped for pizza.
At the precise moment the plane spiraled
out of control, he was lathering shampoo
into his daughter's hair, blond and fine
as cornsilk, in love with his life, his
daughter, the earth (for "cornsilk" is how
he thought of her hair), in love with the miracle
of bubbles, how they rise in a slow dance,
swell and shimmer in the steamy air, then
dissolve as though they never were.
"The Miracle of Bubbles" by Barbara Goldberg, from Cautionary Tales
Author of the week
They went on their first date on this day, her birthday, in 1918. She later wrote to him about it, saying: "You were a young Lieutenant and I was a fragrant phantom, wasn't I? And it was a radiant night, a night of soft conspiracy and the trees agreed that it was all going to be for the best."
Zelda's family was wary of their union, and Zelda wouldn't marry him until his first novel was actually published. After he finished the manuscript, Fitzgerald wrote to his publisher asking him to speed up the publication of the book. He wrote, "I have so many things dependent on its success — including of course a girl." The book was published on March 26, 1920. A few days later, Zelda and Scott moved to New York City and got married at St. Patrick's Cathedral on April 3rd, — just one week after This Side of Paradise appeared in print.
They became known as the quintessential Jazz Age couple, the enfants terribles of New York City: beautiful, flashy, with money, and often drunk in public. When writer Dorothy Parker first encountered the couple, they were sitting on top of a taxicab. Parker wrote that they both looked "as though they had just stepped out of the sun; their youth was striking."
Zelda was F. Scott Fitzgerald's great muse and more: He not only modeled many of his characters after Zelda, he also used lines she'd written in letters to him. He even lifted things verbatim from her diary, including Amory Blaine's soliloquy, which comes at the end of This Side of Paradise.
The New York Tribune literary editor asked Zelda if she wanted to write a "cheeky" review of her husband's latest novel. She wrote:
"To begin with, every one must buy this book for the following aesthetic reasons: First, because I know where there is the cutest cloth of gold dress for only $300 in a store on Forty-second Street, and also if enough people buy it where there is a platinum ring with a complete circlet, and also if loads of people buy it my husband needs a new winter overcoat, although the one he has has done well enough for the last three years. … It seems to me that on one page I recognized a portion of an old diary of mine which mysteriously disappeared shortly after my marriage, and also scraps of letters which, though considerably edited, sound to me vaguely familiar. In fact, Mr. Fitzgerald — I believe that is how he spells his name — seems to believe that plagiarism begins at home."
Zelda suffered from schizophrenia and spent the later part of her life in and out of mental hospitals. F. Scott Fitzgerald had first placed her in a hospital in 1936, after she had become violent and delusional. He wrote a friend, "Zelda now claims to be in direct contact with Christ, William the Conqueror, Mary Stuart, Apollo, and all the stock paraphernalia of insane-asylum jokes. … For what she has really suffered, there is never a sober night that I do not pay a stark tribute of an hour to in the darkness."
She died at age 47 after a kitchen fire in the psychiatric hospital spread all over the building. She and other women on the upper floors could not escape because the fire escapes were made of wood and had gone up in flames.
Good Idea of the week
Single-payer health care takes the profit out of healthcare. 6 out of 10 of us want it, but our “representatives” aren’t even talking about it!
Video of the week
Drug Courts Work! I see it every day in the shining eyes of recovering people discovering the joys of life in recovery. Join us and we can “all rise”! www.Allrise.org
Websites of the week
Walden by Henry David Thoreau- and a million other books online http://www.gutenberg.org/catalog/
Your weekly Presidential address and much more
(Hey, if you haven’t yet, watch these interviews, they are really neat!)
Kelly Eugene Guinn (skipped), Billie Francis Rice and John
And finally, the culmination of millennia of scientific endeavor
Best of Craig’s list of the week:
