and i wonder if i moved from portland who would write me still. who would send me emails? who would keep up with me, send me letters to fill me in and maintain all the jokes and turns of phrase that generate inside a relationship? i appreciate the time it takes to write a letter, to respond and reply and develop a new thread or thought. i appreciate the punchlines, carefully crafted and thought out because you know you will not be there to explain it to the other person. i appreciate the talk about the weather, comparing the still hot days of summer in birmingham or austin to the increasing chill here in portland.
Friday, September 27, 2013
letter writing
and i wonder if i moved from portland who would write me still. who would send me emails? who would keep up with me, send me letters to fill me in and maintain all the jokes and turns of phrase that generate inside a relationship? i appreciate the time it takes to write a letter, to respond and reply and develop a new thread or thought. i appreciate the punchlines, carefully crafted and thought out because you know you will not be there to explain it to the other person. i appreciate the talk about the weather, comparing the still hot days of summer in birmingham or austin to the increasing chill here in portland.
Friday, September 20, 2013
ritualized
despite their name, there's nothing expedient about the nightly bedtime ritual of the vaux swift. the community of birds that descends each year upon portland during september spends a couple hours each night swarming and swooping, funneling above the old chimney of an elementary school in which they take up residence during their migration south to mexico. they chirp, flap their wings, congress with their family, and take their sweet time tucking in as the last of the sunlight melts behind the west hills.
i wish i could fly to mexico each year to winter.
adam and i sat watching the show the other night with a chirruping gaggle of portlanders. i turned to him and said, "don't you sometimes think it would be nice if we lived in a small town where there was nothing to do each night except go to town gatherings like this everyday. like everyday in september we'd watch the swifts. and then in october the pumpkin festival. and november would bring the turkey convention."
there are certain things i do each night before bed. brush my teeth. wash my face. think about what i could do to prepare for the next day and then not do anything but strip naked and get under the covers.
each year has its rituals. christmas eve at embers. the ice cream social on north mississippi avenue. as many pilgrimages as possible to rooster rock during the summer. and so very soon: spookitinis, the party that rob throws yearly, same time, same place, and one of my favorite parties of the year.
the only flight i may take during the year is through the seasons. or through glasses of wine. and though i enjoy adventure, i somehow always look forward to the ritual event, the unfailing community. i want to be so comfortable and so predictable.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
liberal justifications
the diplomatic compromise worked out by russian president vladimir putin (and john kerry) to destroy the chemical weapons held by the assad regime will probably just lead nowhere. the country is a morass of a civil war. according to experts and history (see qaddafi), the destruction of chemical weapons can be difficult even without a war and time-consuming. we haven't even started the process of negotiating with syrian president assad. we have not been able to actually negotiate the destruction of these weapons with the syrian government. this is just an idea floated by the russians. meanwhile the syrian civil war continues and maybe the assad regime will again use chemical weapons against its own people and half a year from now we will again find our president asking for permission to conduct strikes against the assad regime. we will find ourselves right back where we are and without even putting boots on the ground we will america sunk in this.