As a subscriber of multiple magazines – some free some paid, but mostly free or free trials – the ensuring torrent of mailers offering preferred member discount for other magazines is a pain willingly accepted. Usually, these mailers have their own special path from the mailboxes to the kitchen table, to the desk, the desk chair, and finally the trash bin but not before a forceful jerk with the all ten finger and some palm tears the mailer into two or on occasion three pieces.
Now poetry is something to be appreciated. By others. Those others that memorize long poems or remember poet names or even offer their favorite randomly. I am not the others. Though I can, from afar, appreciate others. And here arrives this unassuming mailer. Disguised in a dangerously simple envelope. Within it a three page letter made its attempt at persuading me to subscribe. Appealing to a sense of self advancement and exploration. Of reading enjoyment and of being a cultural patron.
Unmoved subscribe I did not, but I did embark on a cursory search for well known poems upon which a dated article from The Times of London, 30 great poems everyone should know was re-discovered. And here I document this article that hopefully remains online for years ahead. Quite good.
Haven’t actually read all 30 poems, but I re-read the Jabberwocky several times attempting to understand its meaning. Only until I had given up and searched and found the Wikipedia entry did I then understand it. There really isn’t anything to understand. With made up words, you find you’re own meaning though a terrible monster was certainly slayed by a young lad. Poor Old Lady is fun.
A typical beach town. Continue north of Jacksonville Beach and experience Atlantic Beach and go a bit further for Neptune Beach. Beach town, cruising, people out walking, everyone wearing sunglasses just enjoying.
Maya Rudolph, in a women of SNL episode, introduced what I knew then only as the diner skit with Alex Baldwin, but what I know now correctly as the Brenda the Waitress skit with Jan Hooks and Alex Baldwin. The acting is spot on and dialogue is fluid and infectious. Amusing and charming altogether.
Like the original introduction on SNL via Hulu, the recent episode hosted by Bill Hader spread news of Jan Hooks’ passing with a showing of a tender skit of her and Phil Hartman dancing.
And I can’t believe that I’m writing this in TextEdit. Actually. Wiped my Android phone and forgot to setup Google Authenticator on another phone and as I didn’t anticipate I no longer can generate the 2-step code to access LastPass. Without LastPass I don’t know my Gmail password or any other password. And while I my security measure is sound I messed up.
Panicked on a Sunday since I absolutely and completely relay on LastPass for all work password and even personal passwords. No so concerned with personal sites, but I’m freaked about work.
LastPass allows you to turn off the 2-step authentication, but sends an email to your Gmail address with instructions to turn off. And since I don’t know my Gmail password I have to wait 3-5 days before Google will contact me at an alternative email for I don’t know what. And so I think this might be a good thing although slightly painful. At work at least I’ll have to ask for passwords to be reset only for sites that I absolutely need. This may help me understand where to spend my time after this passes.
Avoiding this I’ll need to configure Google Authenticator app on two phones and use a Gmail password I can remember plus have the backup codes for the 2-step authentication. Not exactly streamlined, but until that process breaks it’ll have to do.
A way out dawned on me. My work phone has Gmail configured and I can check email there. Waiting for me was the LastPass email with a link to confirm disabling 2-step authentication. Such a good feeling to read the email click that link and then seeing the confirmation page. And then, finally, was I able to login to LastPass and then to Gmail.
The last step was setting up Google Authenticator on my work phone. Done.
And the strangest thing just happened, I was approached by an adolescent probably 14 years old or thereabouts and the asked how I was doing and extended his arm for a fist bump. His speak impediment immediately noticeable didn’t take away from his kindness. Coral shirt with thin horizontal white stripes. Dark blue Nike sneakers with hello highlights and white athletics socks fully stretched nearly reaching his knees. Think they were calf socks. He as a ginger and as I think back perhaps is teeth were a little decayed. At least he smiled. I smiled too returned the fist bump.
Thought to take a picture, but that would be cruel and shallow. He wouldn’t know it, but his father surely would know. And while this ginger kid is asking for a fist bump his father with perfectly circle dark rimmed glasses was visibly holding him back. Right arm wrapped around his son’s torso. It was meaningless really. And the father’s overreaction didn’t suite the son’s actions. Guess the father was expecting me to ignore or show my dislike. Any who, this is 10minutes into a Starbucks sessions with a chilled caramel maki-i-don’t-know. Did I write that this was strange? Only partially. The strangeness was in the father’s reaction. Though unexpected, the kid acted friendly and I didn’t even mind. I was the only one fist bumped so that made me feel special in a strange way.
Spending time in the park a week or two ago. And as I usually do spend a few hours underneath a tree reading and not being on the cell phone or laptop or any screen. The world is incommunicado.
Changing their temperament, the clouds darkened deep and a friendly constant breeze wandered around the grass and bushes and trees. And so I thought I could hold out and not leave. Dark clouds are quite interesting. You’re experiencing nature and its exciting to be there so I didn’t leave awaiting the next. The next arrived ceremoniously with a loud vibrating entrance. More like a boom and a crash. If the clouds didn’t mind you, then the boom and crash holds your attention. The excitement level increased quite a bit. Still I stayed and just looked up wondering if any of those lighting crashes were meant for the tree above. It was a large overgrown tree with long extended branches and leaves on the ends like the legs of a millipede. Remember the feeling of aliveness as a witness this event rather than inside looking out of a window ever so often. And so I wanted for the next. Again.
The next arrive slowly. One and then another and another and then all together randomly and faster, light at first, but then heavy globs in rapid-fire sequence. Rain. Dark clouds didn’t nudge me, ominous wind didn’t move me, thunder strikes held me firm in my place, but rain got me moving. Gathering the folding chair and tote to head for the car, the rain came down much much faster and harder. Reaching the VW Golf and lifting the hatchback to semi-organize the folded chair and tote bag I knew I was wet. Not drenched, but just enough to feel moist through clothing. Could see and feel the water rolling down my forearms.
Seated in the driver’s seat I waited and simply looked out through the glass windows. The steering wheel returned the stare. Straight ahead to see the grass and large bushes obscuring any view. The windshield holding up against the barrage. Almost like airborne solders dropping in from the sky and crashing into the ground. They fall and crash and explode on the windshield and roll downward to a ditch. New solders fall again and again. Don’t you know your fate solder? Follow orders solder. Die, die, die!!
To the left, the parking spot next to me. All these slots empty. Little water-works all around. More solders crashing to the ground and upon each other. There’s a pool forming.
The thunderstorm was just beginning. A curtain of rain surrounded the park as I drove out. That rain curtain continued well after I arrived home.