It's all stuff and nonsense.Just stopping by to say hi. :)
Mi casa es tu casa. Willkommen.
How do the last lines of The Last Of The Mohicans go? Something about "but once, we were here."
It may not be a lot, but good enough.
Why do I have a trash can next to my first comment?
Hey, there's another one! WTF? I haven't even said anything trashy yet.
"They trashed the place and it wasn't even theirs to trash"."Hey, don't just stand there, take out the garbage".Yes, we're setting a real lofty standard for this site. I see great potential. And dismal performance. Billy, you still here? What would Hawkeye do?
I hope you don't mind if I just stopped by tonight to say I'm exhausted.There's a mockingbird singing its crazy heart out in the peach tree outside my window. He sings the songs of birds he can't possibly have heard before. Like birds you'd hear in a still swamp as you maneuvered your canoe silently through the humidity and low-hanging branches. I love mockingbirds.Sun's up. Time for bed. Good night.
Yes, this is a refuge for all those tired of fighting. An inn and cafe along the road of good intentions.
This evening I watched Hillary give her victory speech to a crowd of enthusiastic Puerto Ricans. Hillary looked rested, revived, radiant. The crowd chanted, "Hee-la-ree! Hee-la-ree!" They looked so genuinely happy.It made me so sad. I thought how no one on the mainland cares about these people, and no one in my party cares about Hillary. There she was with them, though. Just like there she was with diabetic West Virginians in Blue Ridge diners. Or there she was with white-haired women everywhere. Or there she was bending down to a kid's level to better talk to her. Or there she was giving an ordinary interview with the editorial staff of the Sioux Falls Argus Leader.After her speech, a group of black-haired men in dark suits and red ties hugged and congratulated her onstage. They were all Hillary's height. They all beamed at her. They were Puerto Rican elected officials who had helped her secure a win.Yesterday on the mainland, Hillary forced the DNC Rules and Bylaws Committee to publicly select the Democratic nominee for president, a reality they never wanted to acknowledge.She forced them because she wouldn't concede and drop out. She forced them because they wouldn't do their jobs honestly or fairly. She forced them because Barack Obama proved he couldn't beat her by himself, and she wanted that to be made public. Obama couldn't beat her, even when he poisoned her wells and poached her relationships and stole her best ideas. Hillary forced a backroom deal into the open.The most stunning fact is that even if Hillary never becomes president, the backroom deal disguised as public hearing will forever be part of the public record of what happened to the Democratic nomination in 2008, when an extraordinarily brave woman dared to take a man's job.
How can my heart ache even a little bit to leave TPM? Yet it does. Something about the spontaneous choreography with you and Billy has become important to me. It just happened somehow one day. When other people jump in delights me to no end. Were you two always doing that before I came crashing through the brush like a lost rhinoceros?I'm testing a new avatar. Let me know if it sucks.
I just started with this back in February. Billy popped in and out during that time, probably didn't really start tag-teaming until April or so. Just came spontaneously, you're in battle and you turn around and see who's lopping heads off next to you.
Happy Birthday, D. I hope you have a good birthday weekend with plenty of love and air conditioning.If you happen to be in the East Village on Sunday at 6:30 (as if), I'm getting my hair cut on Ave. A bet. 9th and 10th. Place called dlala. You could walk by with a dog or a passel of kids and I would never know it. Or you could stop in and say hi. I'll be the non-Japanese person in the bib with wet hair. Not my best look, but what the hell.Again, HBD.
Sorry, wrong country, spent the day in Bohemian Paradise, would have liked longer but life with kids...The walkabout plans are growing.
Good for you, D. I suspected you were far away. For me the East Village is Bohemian Paradise.Will you keep in touch on your walkabout? Or is it too arduous?
Here is the tiny window to my soul. Hard to say how much posting, how much living, though favoring the latter.
Still trying to get moved in to the new house and get my office set up again. Frustrated by lack of electrical outlets. To hook up another computer, I have to run a line first. Infrastructure is what you take for granted.
I like the avatar, Gasket. The East Village fascinates me. The ethnic mix seems to change fast therew. I think the first time we lived in the city the East Village was black, transitioning to Indian, then to Pakistani or vice versa. Don't know what the dominant group is now. I like your thoughts on HC's victory speech a lot.
*CaliforniaPaige peek in the door, wonders if she's allowed insidegasket, love what you wrote about watching HRC in PR. I don't agree with all your points, but I love what you wrote anyway. Felt like you were letting me see into your heart, just a bit. Even if I feel a little guilty for stumbling into this thread unannounced. Made me a bit teary-eyed.
Of course, all welcome here except the Grackles, but they'll get bored soon enough anyway.
Shout-out and thanks to CaliforniaPaige and Billy for the compliments. Your kind words mean a lot to me. (big smile w/eye crinkles) I wish I had been able to respond sooner so you'd know. I've been caught in some kind of weird undertow lately, but I hope you'll stop back and see this message from me.
I'm always here - it's my crib and it's my casket.
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