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Utopian Turtletop. Monsieur Croche's Bête Noire. Contact: turtletop [at] hotmail [dot] com
Friday, April 21, 2006
A charismatic, quiet, passionate, inspiring college teacher I had once ended a lecture with the phrase, "the labyrinth of the word." When my dad had brain surgery a couple months ago in my college town I went and knocked on her office door. She was in and remembered me. I thanked her for her instruction and we had a nice chat. On her door were all sorts of pro-Iraq war testimonials and photos from soldiers serving there.
At the center of the labyrinth there be a monster.
Or as Fats Waller put it, one never knows, do one?
* * *
On the way to a folk music show this evening, the three-year-old said from his carseat, "Are we there yet? Are we almost there?"
I laughed. Some phrases are instinctual. First time I heard him use that old standby.
We were almost there.
At the center of the labyrinth there be a monster.
Or as Fats Waller put it, one never knows, do one?
* * *
On the way to a folk music show this evening, the three-year-old said from his carseat, "Are we there yet? Are we almost there?"
I laughed. Some phrases are instinctual. First time I heard him use that old standby.
We were almost there.
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