Saturday, June 23, 2012

In the Failing Light of a Northern Sun

It could be just me as the dotage kicks in but I can remember the problem from earlier years, before I qualified for the Early Bird special at the Blue Bird Diner ("Nothing Could be Finer than a Meal at Blue Bird Diner"). We grab more than we can process. We have two ears and two eyes but only one brain and 'back in the day' there was still too much going on for us to always grasp and grab in real time. Now, of course, it's more hopeless.

With 24/7 news operations and the unending stream of information pouring through wired and wireless devices alike on a round the clock basis, what can a poor boy do, 'cept to sing for a rock.roll band? I have a cell phone that I never turn off-it's in ready mode all the time, even when I'm not. I haven't figured out which is worse, trying to sleep when it buzzes all through the night as it receives some new pebble from a distant shore, or putting it in a different room so I can't hear the buzzing but can only imagine what it is doing.

Something about the devil and whether you know him or not. I still think if you sup with the devil you need a long spoon. And her face at first just ghostly, turned a whiter shade of pale. And so it was with this posting, unadorned and unbidden in one of my social media feeds the other day.


I saw it. I read it.I continued to scroll down and scan my sector and then I stopped. I scrolled back to where I had been and saw the image I had looked at, and this time I smiled at the thoughtfulness someone I'll never meet showed for me and others in placing a pearl of great price in the sole hope and purpose that someone somewhere would pause and appreciate it. Thank you.

Sort of like a terrific sunset at the end of a rain squall while on a beach vacation but without the booking fees and the airplane ticket handling charges or sand in all those inconvenient and embarrassing places. But no matter how far and fast I travel, I can't escape my own shadow and its meaning or overlook the sad shire horses walking home in the sodium light.
-bill kenny

Re-Roasting a Christmas Chestnut

I tell this tale every year and will continue to do so even as they lock me away in the home. I've taken to calling it:  Bill's Chri...