Wherever you go, you are there.
Wherever you go, you are there.
“I don’t think…” then you shouldn’t talk, said the Hatter.” Just type and blog and pray it doesn’t matter.
Alice had a crazy thought. If she talks to herself, is that a conversation?
That’s the way the year ends, not with a bang but whisper. If thoughts turn into words then conversations never end. Hoping that it matters. Here’s to another 365 days of chatter!
Oz wishes you, my friend, a very happy new year.
From where I sit, it looks much the same. The world is a wild and wonderful place.
But I feel I am going round in a circle. Or, I wonder, is it circling me?
“That depends on where you sit, and what you see, and nothing else,” said Oz.
So, said the Mad Hatter: “In Wonderland, we only go around in circles, but we always end up where we started.”
Oz is sitting on a swing under the stars listening to melodies in his head.
Oh, Sweet Alison, dang the twang is good and the voices sweet as angels singing softly in the wee hours of the night, but the lyrics hit too close to home,
Wishing I could sleep.
People say nothing is impossible, but I do nothing every day.”
Winne the Pooh
Listen my children.
It’s a thing I’ve said
A million, a billion, no, a zillion times.
Listen closely to the beat of the drums…
You are the Lorax who speak for the trees, for the trees have no tongues
You are the Lorax who speak for the generations yet to be.
What can I do, and what can I say?
Nothing, you say!
Here is a seed, it’s the last of them all,
It once cost a penny, now it’s quite dear,
The seed of the Trufala tree.
Do what you want, you’re in charge.
Do you know what you need?
Can you imagine, I am a fan of Dr. Seuss, but I’ve never read The Lorax. Nor did I know until now that it was made into a movie featuring the voices of Zac Efron, Taylor Swift, and Danny DeVito.
Now that I read it, and you can too, I am enthralled.
So, where can I find the seed of a Trufala tree? Should I look in a book, follow a bee, listen to the sound of a merry-go-round, full of children laughing with not a care in the world?
It is a kind world, or can be, if you just take the time and open your mind.
Within living memory, that is to say one hundred years ago, living in the Grand Cayman was quite different than today’s hectic world.
If you lived in the past, you would remember the Grand Cayman’s Georgetown when four or five Cayman schooners were being built at any one time, when there were but three small communities, Georgetown, Boddentown and West End, when communication with the outside world was by boat, when water to drink was caught in cisterns after a good night’s rain, when goats grazed in the grass where the courthouse now sits, you would see dock men loading giant turtles for ships in the same spot where cruise ships drop off tourists by the tens of thousands, you would see visitors with their cameras and back packs buying souvenirs in gift shops along the harbor in a shop that was once a small hut under a tin roof, selling salt fish to bananas, and shells and hats from thatched palm fronds, and believe it or not when only a half dozen taxis bounced along the sandy streets trying to avoid chickens, goats, and pigs.
It was not an easy life but it was serene and each Caymanian lived the dream.
It sounds delightful
gathered from the recollections of Aaron’s Booker Kohlman, 1920s
Trending, I am told, is an article entitled:
whose premise is that maybe we should give into temptation since most of us are not good at resisting it. Why feel bad? Why not enjoy the forbidden apple, the extra slice of pie, the entire box of pizza, etc., etc., etc. ad nauseum, until one collapses in an orgy of excessive consumption.
All hail Nero who had a fetish or two. He divorced his first wife, then had her beheaded and brought her head to Rome for his second wife to see. He kicked his second wife, Poppaea, to death when she was pregnant with their second child. When saw a young boy who looked like Poppaea, he married him, forced him to dress as a woman, and had him castrated, just for kicks.
He also killed his own mother, then there were rumors their relationship was much more than mother and son.
Oh, how we love to talk when it is saucy and racy.
An unpublished study, BORG ALERT, demonstrates that resisting temptation is futile. Besides that, it is exhausting.
Now, if there is a point to this study it is this – enjoy better habits then there is less to resist. Or, simply resist the temptation to read and believe something that’s hogwash.
Be glad you sad, for, as Aristotle noted,
“Those who have been eminent in philosophy, politics, poetry, and the arts have all had tendencies toward melancholia.” Problema XXX.1
“But why?” asks Oz. Why does madness touch the creative mind?
Can’t you see? It is mad to think a thought that can’t be shared. Genius is a lonely thing.
An auto is a helpful thing;
The way it goes, the way it comes;
It saves me many a dreary mile,
It brings me quickly to the smile
Of those at home, and every day
It adds unto my time for play.
But more than this I love to walk
Beside a friend and talk
Of things that matter not
To anyone else but us
And if we have little to say
Holding hands will quite suffice
For this is the way the world really is
To those who love to walk and talk
Thanks Edgar Guest for many lines and many thoughts, whose rhymes I ought to write myself, but found it simpler to share.