I wish I had something wise to say about what happened in Haiti today, but I don’t. Give to the Red Cross or Doctors Without Borders or someone. This situation is awful.
A query….
For several years now, this blog has received search-engine traffic under the search string “Is Norm Abram Jewish”. Are there that many people who find Norm Abram’s ethnicity or religious background interesting enough to Google? And for heaven’s sake, why?
(Although, if I were to get a job working for Norm Abram — who is a carpenter by trade and who has written books and appeared on teevee shows on the subject — I could put one of those bumper stickers on my car, the ones that say “My boss is a Jewish carpenter”.)
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Five
He would have been five today. Had he not suffered the brain damage that caused his cerebral palsy, he would be entering Kindergarten this year. Alas, it wasn’t to be, and we’ll wonder “what if” for all the rest of our days.
Here he is, in the arms of his grandmother, who has since joined him…wherever it is that we go, when we leave.
Happy birthday, Little Quinn.
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That oughta be the shortest news feed ever….
America v. 233.0
Unleash the cuteness!
Remembering (a repost)
Know, all who see these lines,
That this man, by his appetite for honor,
By his steadfastness,
By his love for his country,
By his courage,
Was one of the miracles of the God.— Guy Gavriel Kay
Well, how do you do, young Willie McBride,
Do you mind if I sit down here by your graveside?
And rest for awhile ‘neath the warm summer sun,
I’ve been walking all day, and I’m nearly done.
I see by your gravestone you were only 19
When you joined the great fallen in 1916,
I hope you died quick and I hope you died clean
Or, Willie McBride, was it slow and obscene?
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death-march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
Did you leave a wife or a sweetheart behind
In some faithful heart is your memory enshrined?
And, though you died back in 1916,
To that faithful heart are you forever 19?
Or are you a stranger without even a name,
Enshrined then, forever, behind a glass pane,
In an old photograph, torn and tattered and stained,
And faded to yellow in a brown leather frame?
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death-march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
The sun’s shining down on these green fields of France;
The warm wind blows gently, and the red poppies dance.
The trenches have vanished long under the plow;
No gas and no barbed wire, no guns firing now.
But here in this graveyard that’s still No Man’s Land
The countless white crosses in stand mute in the sand
To man’s blind indifference to his fellow man,
And a whole generation who were butchered and damned.
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death-march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
And I can’t help but wonder, no Willie McBride,
Do all those who lie here know why they died?
Did they really believe when they answered the call,
Did they really believe that this war would end wars?
Well the sorrow, the suffering, the glory, the pain
The killing and dying, was all done in vain,
For young Willie McBride, it all happened again,
And again, and again, and again, and again.
Did they Beat the drum slowly, did they play the fife lowly?
Did they sound the death-march as they lowered you down?
Did the band play The Last Post in chorus?
Did the pipes play the Flowers of the Forest?
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A Random Wednesday Conversation Starter
A Random Wednesday Conversation Starter
Which game show theme tune is better: The Price is Right, or $25000 Pyramid? Discuss!
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A Random Wednesday Conversation Starter
The scenario: it’s the middle of the night, and you have to go to the bathroom. So you get up and start staggering in that direction, without turning on any lights, because you know the way well enough and there’s enough ambient light in the darkness that you won’t walk into the walls or anything.
You’re barefoot, and you’re about to put your foot squarely onto…something. So, what would you rather it be: one of your kid’s Lego bricks, which would really hurt, or a cold-but-still-wet pile of your cat’s vomit?
Discuss!