“It’s like a legendary gourmet cook making mud sandwiches. The adoring audience cheers, ‘Bravo’–but, it’s still mud.”
My local refuse collection company in a recent letter, referred to customers as “refuse generators.” Why not “subscribers” or “consumers?” I’m not feeling the love.
The example given was a good one. Handel’s “Messiah” is one of the most beautiful compositions ever written.
Rev. Larry continued, “Every year, Bob the tympani player, looked forward to performing with the community orchestra. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as he tuned his instrument for exactly the right moment. Nothing but perfection would do. Even though the audience wouldn’t know the difference if the drum skins were tuned a bit flat or sharp–Bob would know.”
“That’s because Bob refused to be distracted from the task at hand.”
“Are you distracted from the important things in life?” Rev. Larry asked in my dream this morning.
Rev. Larry resembled the pastor of a large local church from television commercials. The good reverend wore a toupee. Not being an expert on hair replacement products–it appeared to be a good one.
How did Rev. Larry know that I’m easily distracted? It was uncanny.
Peace of mind
Left far behind
Bits of the past
Where things weren’t
Always what they seemed
Upended in innocuous rows
Revealed, without telling
Too much about the past
Left to grow
So, life in general sucks. People lie to each other–never say what they’re really thinking. Everybody’s caught up in making money. You’re tired of being lied to by both political parties.
Sensational headlines without style or substance make you sick every day. Fearmongering, hatemongering–some, so-called journalists would sell their own souls for a story.
We’re two generations apart, so you won’t listen to my advice. So, I won’t offer any–except to suggest that you maintain your health. At your age, I didn’t listen to advice either. Whatever happens, I wish you well on your journey.
I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to realize the truth–better late than never. I will close with some observations; there are very few people that really care about you. I hope that I’m one of them.
You will be much wiser, when the journey’s over. It’s funny–someone told me that same thing a few decades ago.
Are weird like Freudian slips
Good for a few laughs
Can be quite
It was an ill wind
That blew my mind
Available to the gullible
Those that stood in line
Behind all the other
Watched their flat screens
Prepared one-skillet suppers
Stared with blank faces
Another book written
Never read to the end