Once upon a time a fat telecom company named Pyg swaggered in to the shire throwing coins to the people and shouting from a megaphone, "I will bring connectivity to your hinterlands and employ your villagers. Let me in!" Smiling people from away threw confetti and sang songs about Pyg's goodness as the mayor handed him the keys to the castle.
After the neighbors welcomed Pyg with casseroles and bean suppers, they waited patiently to be connected to the rest of the world. They waited and waited but their screens remained dark and their telephones became silent. The people became angry and marched in the streets. Pyg then took off his mask and said, "I am big but not strong or smart enough to connect you. I must go to the City to get more coins and confetti."
Gee Wallaby Ibis was a nice little telecom company. She and her friends dreamt of someday befriending Pyg and working together in his castle. They tried and tried without success. One day they rolled up their sleeves and began connecting the village to the world in a new way. The good people on the farms and in the hills were happy because their blue screens lit up and their phones began to ring.
When King O announced a connecting contest, Gee Wallaby Ibis and her friends invited Pyg to join them and seek the prize, but Pyg was jealous and cranky and refused.
Using the best blacksmiths and the strongest metal, Gee Wallaby Ibis and her friends built a beautiful and sturdy chain to connect the entire shire with the wide wonderful world. After the king's knights spent 40 days testing the chain, Prince Locke rode in to the square and declared with pomp and circumstance Gee Wallaby Ibis the winner. Trumpets sounded. The people cheered, "Hurray! We will be connected at last!"
Pyg's castle began crumbling around him as he seethed with anger. Instead of using the coins he got in the City to fix his castle, he bought a new mask and disguised himself as a Gentleman Blacksmith. Whispering to the people that Gee Wallaby's chain would break and they would be lost at sea, the Gentleman Blacksmith began spreading fear and doubt in the land. In hushed and somber tones he told the people that Pyg had a bigger and better chain hidden behind the castle walls.
Some of the good people became very afraid and confused. They urged Gee Wallaby Ibis to send back the prize, and give her chain to the Gentleman Blacksmith to fix.
The wise elders of the community gathered and spent many days thinking. The people waited with baited breath until finally the wisest of all stepped forward and told the people, "The Gentleman Blacksmith is a Pyg in disguise who must fix his own castle. Gee Wallaby Ibis built a beautiful new chain that will connect us. Let us have courage to change the things we can!"
Friday, February 26, 2010
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Shaksper N Luv
Parting is such sweet sorrow when you drop him off at the bus station this cold dark February morning in Maine. Its sweetness is the reminder that you are not affixed to each other by children, mortgage or habit alone; its sorrow the many lost opportunities for closeness.
A pair of star-cross'd lovers is a polite way to describe your beginning. He was dating someone his mother adored, and you were dating your boyfriend's (former) best friend. Being theoretically unavailable made flirting at the restaurant while you both worked harmless. Continuing to serve and pour each other wine after your shifts together, alas, was not.
What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet, but when that funny Valentine from "TC" arrived in the mail your heart pounded. His last name had not yet come up in conversation. Love is a smoke and is made with the fume of sighs, and sharing cigarettes between dances at Nectars had left no time for formal introductions. Added to your college drama were the recent advances of that blond European student, Thor C.
"I would not wish any companion in the world but you, and by the way, what is your last name?" you ask when you finally find him, breathless from running. His answer and mutual blushing complete the meet-cute.
The course of true love never did run smooth, and yours took the road from Burlington, Vermont down to Boston, and then north to Portland. Love is like a child, That longs for everything it can come by, and your two kids are no exception. Weeks pass sometimes without a second alone together. A rendezvous at a basketball game or ski meet is a date.
If music be the food of love, then texting is the poetry that now connects us. Your Valentine's words are few because his phone and style are old school, but less is sometimes more.
A pair of star-cross'd lovers is a polite way to describe your beginning. He was dating someone his mother adored, and you were dating your boyfriend's (former) best friend. Being theoretically unavailable made flirting at the restaurant while you both worked harmless. Continuing to serve and pour each other wine after your shifts together, alas, was not.
What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet, but when that funny Valentine from "TC" arrived in the mail your heart pounded. His last name had not yet come up in conversation. Love is a smoke and is made with the fume of sighs, and sharing cigarettes between dances at Nectars had left no time for formal introductions. Added to your college drama were the recent advances of that blond European student, Thor C.
"I would not wish any companion in the world but you, and by the way, what is your last name?" you ask when you finally find him, breathless from running. His answer and mutual blushing complete the meet-cute.
The course of true love never did run smooth, and yours took the road from Burlington, Vermont down to Boston, and then north to Portland. Love is like a child, That longs for everything it can come by, and your two kids are no exception. Weeks pass sometimes without a second alone together. A rendezvous at a basketball game or ski meet is a date.
If music be the food of love, then texting is the poetry that now connects us. Your Valentine's words are few because his phone and style are old school, but less is sometimes more.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Oh My Blog!
You have been meaning to blog about President Obama's commanding performance in Baltimore with the GOP. The leadership races coming out of the woodworks in Augusta give you the creeps. You are on the fence about the story of the Baptists kidnapping the Haitian kids, and downright nauseous when you think about John Edwards. The woman suicide bomber in Pakistan killing school girls is disturbing and thought provoking. The United States of America policy of "don't ask, don't tell" is almost hard to believe.
So much material and so little time!
So much material and so little time!
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