Icarus Grits
long, hard blog.
kudos bar to anyone who gets that title. (im so obnoxious, but it’s really insecurity - insecurity that no one understands my brilliant allusions.)
so, as some of you know (i guess im talking about the three people who i actually know read this thing, at least once in a blue moon), ive been meaning to start a new blog, cataloguing my training for the burlington marathon in may.
well, i started it.
i should say, it’s not gonna be that fascinating, and sadly, it’s prolly gonna wholly replace this blog for its duration. but maybe i’ll be able to slip some gems in there, maybe you can find some wisdom; who knows.
without further ado: slouching towards burlington.
“ When I got home at 10pm there were rose pedals strewn all over the staircase leading to someone’s second floor apartment. Valentine’s day is by far the [redacted superlative], most absurd holiday. shame on whoever did that. And they didn’t even clean it up! ”
DC, romantic
“ she wants to become a yoga instructor, but she has never really even taken a class. ”
SS, on a friend
“ If Singapore has one thing to teach America, it is about taking governing seriously, relentlessly asking: What world are we living in and how do we adapt to thrive. “We’re like someone living in a hut without any insulation,” explained Tan Kong Yam, an economist. “We feel every change in the wind or the temperature and have to adapt. You Americans are still living in a brick house with central heating and don’t have to be so responsive.” And we have not been. ”
thomas friedman, serious in singapore
relativity.
photo from google images. consider it a dramatization.
i had a couple of revelations on the train this morning.
sadat. there was a mariachi band on the 5 train. after they finished playing their song, when one of them went around with the overturned sombrero, i noticed that the seemingly more ‘downtrodden’ folks - im not judging, generalizing or stereotyping, but yes, im talking about blacks and hispanics who, by virtue of their dress, appeared to be on their way to jobs more blue collar than those of others in the car - were more likely to drop ducats and paper into the hat than the folks of white skin and collar.
those with the least to give gave the most. now, im guessing that doctrine shows up in some biblical allegory, but my take is that what i saw had more to do with empathy and identification than a spirit of pure generosity or christianity. it seems to me to be a broad extension of ‘charity begins at home.’
mubarak. needless to say, as i watched folks give the mariachis money, i wondered how i got off not taking out my wallet. then i remembered - through children international, ive been sponsoring a little guatemalan girl, to the tune of $20 every three months, for about eight years now. so it’s not like i dont give, period; i just pick my moments. (i have a rule that i’ll give to any street musician playing a beatles song or a song i like, period. this pretty much disqualifies the mariachis as soon as they walk in.)
that’s when it hit me - the guatemalan girl is like my unlimited metrocard. sure, you purchase it for the value, but also for the peace of mind - that you dont have to worry about keeping track of how much money your card has left. with my sponsorship, i dont have to feel guilty about giving or not giving to everyone i see in need. cuz im already giving.
(i cant tell if this is an off-color post. i mean, i know it’s not - i just hope it doesnt come across that way.)
something weird has happened with brady somewhere in the last six months. (btw, in a couple of weeks it will be nine years with her!)
that signature white mark on her proud chest has become cleft.
i dont know if shes been watching too many kirk douglas movies or what, but my little girl’s got cleavage! my brady’s all growed up.
or shes not eating enough, and her rib cage is caving in.
shes so weird. how am i ever gonna top this cat? im gonna need to buy a cockatoo or something.
it’s amazing what soup can do.
for some reason, i really like that new campbell’s tagline. so much so that i made it the refrain of a song.
obv this is dedicated to my double-soup brothers.
they spent the day shoveling
out on the drive
and when they came back
they were barely alive
you took them in
the red and the blue
it’s amazing what soup can do
the king was a mess
he was deep in his cups
the prince was on meth
the queen had enough
she went to the pantry
thered be no need to chew
it’s amazing what soup can do
the farmer felt lost
he looked around and around
to see the vanishing herd
that sowed salt in his ground
he took a deep breath
the sunset looked true
it’s amazing what soup can do
in paris we dined
on cured meat and cheese
you gave me a cloth napkin
whenever i sneezed
we made love in the street
i cant remember which rue
it’s amazing what soup can do
two girls on a playdate
with bows in their hair
life stretched out before them
it comes out of thin air
the one reaches for scissors
the other for glue
it’s amazing what soup can do
and when you get to the gates
and st. pete says hello
and what’s under your feet
is the whole earth below
you’ll hug and you’ll kiss
you arab, you jew
it’s amazing what soup can do
Deep into Real Housewives I Realized a More Important Reality Show Was On
Me: Who is the guy in the pink tie?
CB: John Boehner, new Speaker of the House
Me: Right
CB: I’ll say it again, it wouldn’t kill you to read the paper!
Me: True
CB: … Notice how he’s darker than our black president.
