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Current Photo Friday theme: Open
Today is George Harrison’s birthday. I opened the window seat where I store my albums and brought out this tattered copy of All Things Must Pass, a gift from Riley. George Harrison is my answer to that oft-repeated question, “Favorite Beatle?”
Thank you, George Harrison and Riley, for all your gifts and the way you opened my heart and life to new experiences and adventures.
This morning I had a message from a business in Illinois. They were trying to reach someone who’d called them after hours and must have misspoken her phone number, giving them mine. It’s probably dorky, but I always return those calls to tell them they reached my number by mistake. At least it gives them a shot at trying again to connect with the right caller.
This morning I’m glad I did, because the person I talked to had the best Midwestern accent–she sounded a lot like Rose Nylund from “Golden Girls,” but she sounded even more like my late friend Steve R’s mother–super pleasant voice with a lilt, great phone etiquette. It made me happy just to talk to her.
I got the idea the Magnetic Poetry elves really, really wanted me to use the word “delicious.”
I’ve had a few meals turn out this way.
This story just broke my heart. Someone deliberately used lethal amounts of herbicide on Live Oak trees in Auburn, Alabama, that are estimated to be more than 130 years old. A person who called himself “Al” and a Crimson Tide fan claimed responsibility for the poisoning on a radio show. Whether or not this was really about a football rivalry, it’s a shameful and inexcusable act of eco terrorism.
If you read Three Fortunes in One Cookie, you may remember our nod to the wonderful heritage of the South’s Live Oaks. These majestic beauties have their own names and belong to their own society. There are rules and even laws governing how we treat them.
I hope whoever did this is found and punished. These trees aren’t just part of Auburn University’s football tradition. They are part of all Southerners’ hearts.
Live Oak at the Menil Museum, Houston, Texas, 2007.
Live Oak at Becks on Westheimer, Houston, Texas, 2007.
For the longest time I’ve been sure I had a day of photos missing (from a 2008 trip). Last night I found them on the laptop and was able to copy them to my current desktop. (They may still be misfiled on my old PC as well. I’m an archivist’s nightmare.) That search and recovery was prompted by my wish for a specific Photo Friday shot.
All that reminded me of pulling photos from my old cell before I finalized my phone upgrade earlier this week. In doing so, I discovered a photo taken last August on a Craft Night. Margot had sequestered herself away from the rest of us in a crate (if she goes into Fort Emo under the bed, it’s not as effective, since then the rest of us don’t get to see how much she suffers). Tim reached into the crate to pet her (so she could pretend to hate the attention), and he fell asleep. I surreptitiously caught the moment with my cell phone. It always took the worst photos; the iPhone can only be an improvement.
Dedicated to all the poets in my heart.
Sometime back in the Paleozoic Era, I went to an Eagles concert. It was already a happy audience, but it exploded into a writhing mass of joy when Joe Walsh began “Life’s Been Good.”
I thought of that moment Saturday when I looked at the car ahead of me.
It was a day this beautiful–clear and sunny in Tuscaloosa–on this date in 1986. I drove from That Other City where I’d been living, followed by Mr. Category 3 in his car. Both of our cars were full of my possessions because I was moving back to my favorite town–into the brownstone with the giant flying palmetto bugs where I was still living when I met Tom, so there were lots of good things in store for me, though it didn’t feel like it that day.
We got out of our cars behind ten Hoor Hall, where I was scheduled to teach, and Category 3 said, “Were you listening to the news?” I hadn’t been, and he told me about the Challenger breaking up after liftoff. I met with my students long enough to cancel classes that day, then he and I went to a barbecue place on the Strip–its name will come back to me in the middle of the night–because they had TVs there. That’s the day I fell in love with ABC’s Peter Jennings because he was so calming as he delivered information as it came in.
It was an awful day. I would eventually meet people who would tell me first-hand what it was like to be employed on January 28, 1986, by companies that helped build the shuttles, the SRBs, and the external fuel tank. I was working on a NASA team at Redstone Arsenal on September 29, 1988, when Discovery took the U.S. back into space. It was amazing to watch the launch with people who were so invested in its success.
Here’s my button from the Discovery launch:
Current Photo Friday theme: Travels
Rowr!