The Thread About Nothing aka The Seinfeldesque Thread

I'd like to chuck it all, and move to Ecuador, or Panama, or Belize... or maybe Australia, New Zealand, or France. Canada, even. Anywhere else.

 

Does any one want to join my Society for the Preservation of Gravity - The motto is "Gravity, not just a good idea, it's the law."

 

no. gravity is doing an injustice to my body.

 

Just damn...

I miss you Bra... your wit... your passion for speed... and your commitment to being you.

Some resurrected threads are a bite in the heart.

I'm getting a drink.

 

Me, too (missing TJ, I mean--it's still too early for a drink). I had to stop coming here for awhile because it made me too sad.

 

That is where I came up with "bluey" for my PIP name...Clearwater blue !!!!!

 

Here's to friends...

 

Cheers Rene :tea: and :tea: to Tj. We miss ya bud.

 

The Oven Bird

There is a singer everyone has heard,
Loud, a mid-summer and a mid-wood bird,
Who makes the solid tree trunks sound again.
He says that leaves are old and that for flowers
Mid-summer is to spring as one to ten.
He says the early petal-fall is past
When pear and cherry bloom went down in showers
On sunny days a moment overcast;
And comes that other fall we name the fall.
He says the highway dust is over all.
The bird would sing and be as other birds,
But that he knows in singing not to sing.
The question that he frames in all but words
is what to make of a diminished thing.

Robert Frost
------------------------------


(About life size)

This bird "knows in singing not to sing", not to engage in the excited
but not very thoughtful celebration that marks the songs of the birds of
spring. Instead, he sings in a minor key, to prophesy and to ask
important, provocative questions. Like the oven bird, the poet's persona
in this poem uses his poetry not to sing of love or of life's superficial
interests, but rather to complete the job the oven bird has begun. The
question that the oven bird "frames in all but words", the poet does
frame in words: "what to make of a diminished thing".

Ironically, this poem does not counsel despair. It answers that question
by implying that we should make the most we possibly can of the
"diminished thing" that life always is, at every point along its way.

The Oven Bird