Saturday, December 30, 2023

Pedestrian Love

One day, earlier this week, we walked.

"We walked" is a true statement. It also raises questions. Why did we walk? Is this unusual? How long did it take? How far? And so on.

Since you ask: we needed to pick up some items at the pharmacy and the dollar store. We walk to a mall maybe once a week. We don't drive, which means Guelph is much safer for everybody. We left about 11:15 AM and got back home at about 1:00 PM, 5 km round trip. Is that all you wanted to know?

You want more? You want to know what goes through my head while my feet are busy walking, don't you.

Well I'm going to tell you anyway.

At one point we passed some apple trees and I thought about windfall applesauce and yeasty cider for a minute.

That part of the trip is along a busy road with commercial traffic. It's so noisy! I began speculating about all the energy that vehicles waste as useless sound. Then I spent five minutes inventing a device that would harvest sound energy to charge my cell phone so I wouldn't get caught short when I forget to plug it in. The world is noisy enough that nobody who has one of my Ambi-erg™ devices (name derived from ambient energy) needs to plug in a cell phone ever again. After I have the prototype put together, there will be mass production and I will join the 1%. Get in line to invest. Only $14.95. Reserve yours today. With the first million, I think we'll buy an autonomous vehicle so we won't have to walk to the mall. Look out, pedestrians. Robots don't care.

Getting rich was interrupted by an impatient driver exiting a sideroad in a hurry without slowing down at the stop sign. We almost didn't get rich. Then I thought about the majority of nice drivers around the neighbourhood who are used to us doddering across the road. They stop half a block away, wave us on with a smile and wait patiently. We pedestrians are wealthy in our bubble of neighbourly love, or we would be if it weren't for the 1% who are busy doing what they want, ignoring the rules because they can get away with it.

Sorry, I got side-tracked with a rant. I was telling you what was on my mind while we walked, wasn't I. The rest of the time was devoted to suppressing an annoying earworm by rehearsing Beatles songs in my head and composing this blog note between choruses of Let It Be.

I'm lying about the Beatles. I don't remember most of what I was thinking on the walk. Also, the idea for this blog was just a whisper of a hint of a thought. That's the thing about stories. They begin with a bare, boring fact, and then we dress them up with layers of interesting facteems, and maybe add a sound track to keep the audience engaged. 

But we did walk, and walk, and walk. That's true. When we got home, we sat down wearily to a lunch of tomato sandwiches. Then I took a nap while Dorothy read a book. We pedestrians are wealthy in love and lunch and leisure.

****************

Which reminds me of another story, nothing memorable really, just a baby being born. Thousands of other babies were born the same day and nobody took note of this one. But as this baby was nurtured in love and matured in a tradition of law and judgment and eye-for-eye retribution, he had a thought that love worked better than fear. That simple idea became the core of a story told and retold ever since with embellishments and music to hold our attention.

I have some words of my own to add. But first you need a sound track. I can't stream the music along with my words because there is a rule about copyright, a sort of stop sign for writers. 

There is an old Scottish folk tune, O Waly Waly, that fits the purpose. The music is delightful, if you don't mind clicking past noisy commercials (enough waste energy to cook your brain, sorry, another rant). You can listen to it here arranged by John Rutter and performed by the Royal Ballet Sinfonia.

After you have the melody in mind, the words are here: Song of a Common Soul. Sing along.

****************
May your New Year include many happy walks, lots of love, enough sandwiches to share, and naps when needed.




Sunday, December 24, 2023

In Subjunctive Mood on Christmas Day

I used to tell my students
that being wrong was OK ...
before the final exam.
You know: learn from mistakes
and get it right when it matters.
I myself have always been wrong,
setting a good example.

If I were wiser [subjunctive mood],
I would not have written a blog.
Sometimes blogging is a bit like
undressing in public,
exposing
 [indicative mood]
 
my inner Geriatric Grammarian
and Smartypants Scientist
and Shameless Superjerk
and Passionate Poet
and Ephemeral Philosopher
and Climate Catastrophizer
and 
Gnosiologic Neologist.

Yes, I can remain Bloglessly Boring,
and greet friends like so...

Merry Christmas. Nice day for ducks.

But can you feel
the pull of The  Button
tugging us out of subjunctive sagacity
into audaciously assertive yesbuttery?
Just press The Button.


The Olden Days: Christmas 2016


Click.
 Welcome to The Basket Overflow. 
 It is 7°C on Christmas Day, 2023.  
 Nice day for ducks? Yes,               
 but too warm for polar bears.        
 How are we gonna fix this?            

Oops. Looks like I made another blog.

That was a mistake.
I hope this isn't the final exam.

Merry Christmas anyway.🎅