FramWinter begins November 1 and ends March 31. Snow and cold might yet torment us for a while longer, but they cannot last. I will also say happy birthday today to
Benny and to Bud, who managed to arrive just before March departed. The music, I would think, is self-evident .... I might change it .... I could not decide with what "music to end March by" .... but, perhaps, the selection is an omen and may be appropriate since the Rolling Stones will be in town on June 3. (Yes, really. Can you believe it?) Actually, this is an unfinished post, but I put it up anyway because I like to note the end of my birth month and I ran out of time .... hmmmm .... out of time. I might add more to this post. I have thought of publishing something like this, and then just adding new thoughts to it periodically -- a never-ending post, so to speak.
"I would chuse March, for I would come in like a Lion ....
Lassiter / "Riders of the Purple Sage" by Zane Grey 1912
I have decided to open this post up for comments, at least temporarily, since it is "temporarily never-ending." What is life without experimentation? Although I prefer the past in many ways, like it or not life is learning about the present ....
Wolf Larsen / "The Sea-Wolf" by Jack London 1904
Among my earliest memories are of my mother reading to me. Then, she taught me to read. It was the only area in which I excelled when I entered school.
I was eleven when I approached the librarian to check out four or five books from the "adult section" of the local public library. There was nothing left in the "children's section" either unread by me or of interest to me. The librarian telephoned my mother, who said it was fine for me to have them, and I left the building on my way to an entirely new world of reading material.
Ernest Hemingway / Letter to Charles Fenton 1952
Keith Reid & Gary Brooker / "A Whiter Shade of Pale" 1967
Turned a whiter shade of pale
She said, 'There is no reason
And the truth is plain to see.'"
I noticed her at an after-hours bar on the outside of city limits. I was waiting for "my love" of the moment, a divorced mother of three who was twenty-five and said she had gotten pregnant the "first time" she "had done it." I will not go into the details of our romance, but I will mention her ex-husband had hit her one night in my presence at a bar, and, as the expression goes, I proceeded to "wipe up the floor" with him. The ex-husband's father, a local political figure and office holder, later threatened to "destroy" me. You might imagine how I reacted to that: