A number of years ago, a young lady told me she believed in a theory she called "The Do It Twice Principle." She did not apply it to everything, obviously, but to certain activities she experienced for the first time. It began, she explained, the first time she went off the high board at a swimming pool. She was not sure in her mind if the experience was good or bad, so she waited a few minutes and did it again, but this time trying to sense ever moment of the experience rather than simply "doing it and being petrified," as she described her first leap.
I often have wondered why this particular girl chose not to move at least once, if not twice, so she would have had the opportunity to decide whether it might be a worthwhile experiment. I guess I was not inspirational enough .... or, whatever ....
So, with a flickering memory of Kati Mari, I will utilize her "do it twice" concept to publish a second post card. This one is dated 1914, which would place its origin to the Christmas of nearly ninety seven years ago. I like the number ninety-seven for a variety of reasons, none of which I care to mention today. I will say once again, though, that in my mind the last decades of the Nineteenth Century and the first years of the Twentieth Century -- up to about the time of the first shots of World War I -- comprise the Golden Age of America.
My kingdom for a genuine Bloody Mary
Once upon a time, James Bond (Ian Fleming) had his famous gin and vodka (yes, both, together) Martini "with a large, thin slice of lemon peel," and Ernest Hemingway had his white rum Daiquiri at the El Floridita Bar in Havana, Cuba.
When I go out for a nice meal in a nice establishment with a nice friend, I invariably order a Bloody Mary or two before the meal. Sadly, I have discovered even the classiest joints no longer employ bartenders who know what they are doing, and who would be better suited for employment in a Saturday night beer saloon than in a classy joint.
Everyone, it seems, uses a premixed, factory-bottled, Bloody Mary cocktail of "gooygook" when making the drink these days, rather than prepare their own unique mix of ingredients from scratch. In a word, "yuk." No, it is worse than that, so, "yuk" times two over and over again.
Oh, for a return to the world of bartenders as they existed in the days of Bond and Hemingway.
Our private domain is Neverland
For today's music, White Bear has selected some of Polish composer Jan Kaczmarek's scores from the film, "Finding Neverland." Although a devotee of the American Western film genre, White Bear admits this is his favorite motion picture and music.
For the first ten or twelve nights after arriving in Poland, while staying at The Duval and before moving into an apartment overlooking Castle Square, White Bear kept this music playing all night most nights. That was fine with me. It was a great and memorable experience.