Posting, Friday, June 21, 2019
I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate
A poet, a pawn and a king
I've been up and down and over and out
And I know one thing
Each time I find myself flat on my face
I pick myself up and get back in the race
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Commentary
Friday, June 21, 2019
What follows are more thoughts from Kali L.
This love
What if it doesn’t matter how many
therapist offices you visit, how you tried to
overcome trauma, how many times you
showed up to group therapy, or begged some God
to sew the leaking, poisonous holes that other
people left behind? Something has to hold you:
a teddy bear, a vocation, running, swimming, the way
the leaves fall and sweep themselves up in the wind, books
to read,
hope to find. A life filled; what’s worth keeping?
Not the sad men who gutted you and then left.
Not the emotional con artist who painted you
dreams that your mental illness wanted to shack up in.
Keep the late night concerts with your mother
And the time you had the courage to ask her for a hug
Keep love for yourself
Keep his warm hand on your back and never forget his
fingers interlaced with yours
Keep your nephew’s laugh and collect all his I love you’s
Make a mosaic of survival out of this kind of love.
The hours are ticking away and if we don’t make the most of our time another day will soon click past.
Unnoticed.
Unappreciated.
Tick Tock.
In clock language:
Enjoy today.
Enjoy the week.
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Postings Count, Weather Brief, and Dinner
Friday, June 21, 2019
Our 441st consecutive posting, committed to 5,000.
After 441 posts we’re at the 8.82 percentile of our commitment, the commitment a different way of marking the passage of time.
We are racing to the 10% mark.
Now there’s a mark, 10%. Only 9 more such marks in front of us.
Time of posting is 12.01am on Friday.
On this day Boston will enjoy mild temperatures, with a high of 77* with a feels-like of 81* with a chance of showers.
The next few days will feature temps in the high seventies and love eighties with a lot of sun.
Summertime in Boston.
Yet again, a year in Boston without a satisfying spring.
Minestra.
A knockout.
Dinner Wednesday was Minestra, a belly-washer.
An entire head of Savoy Cabbage, a pound+ of dried white Northern Beans, and a medley of sausages and pork butt, cooked in our own chicken stock.
A knockout.
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Chuckle of the Day:
Friday, June 21, 2019
Tom was walking down the street when he comes upon a funeral procession on foot.
At the head was the casket, immediately behind was a man walking a very large dog, and following the dog nearly 300 people.
The man with the dog passes close by and Tom asks, “Whose funeral is this?
The man, “My mother-in-law’s.”
Tom expresses his condolences then asks, “The procession tells me she must of been a very important person. But what’s with the dog?”
“This is the dog that killed her!”
After a moment Tom asks, “Can I borrow the dog for an hour?”
“Sure. Get in line!”
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Today’s Topic
Frank, his own man: Two for Sinatra
Friday, June 21, 2019
For what is a man, what has he got
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way
That's Life
Frank Sinatra
That's life (that's life) that's what people say
You're riding high in April
Shot down in May
But I know I'm gonna change that tune
When I'm back on top, back on top in June
I said, that's life (that's life) and as funny as it may seem
Some people get their kicks
Stompin' on a dream
But I don't let it, let it get me down
'Cause this fine old world it keeps spinnin' around
I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate
A poet, a pawn and a king
I've been up and down and over and out
And I know one thing
Each time I find myself flat on my face
I pick myself up and get back in the race
That's life (that's life) I tell ya, I can't deny it
I thought of quitting, baby
But my heart just ain't gonna buy it
And if I didn't think it was worth one single try
I'd jump right on a big bird and then I'd fly
I've been a puppet, a pauper, a pirate
A poet, a pawn and a king
I've been up and down and over and out
And I know one thing
Each time I find myself layin' flat on my face
I just pick myself up and get back in the race
That's life (that's life) that's life
And I can't deny it
Many times I thought of cuttin' out but my heart won't buy it
But if there's nothing shakin' come here this July
I'm gonna roll myself up in a big ball
and die
My, my
Reprise Records was formed in 1960 by Frank Sinatra in order to allow more artistic freedom for his own recordings.
Soon thereafter, he garnered the nickname "The Chairman of the Board."
My Way
Frank Sinatra
And now, the end is near
And so I face the final curtain
My friend, I'll say it clear
I'll state my case, of which I'm certain
I've lived a life that's full
I've traveled each and every highway
But more, much more than this
I did it my way
Regrets, I've had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do
And saw it through without exemption
I planned each charted course
Each careful step along the byway
And more, much more than this
I did it my way
Yes, there were times, I'm sure you knew
When I bit off more than I could chew
But through it all, when there was doubt
I ate it up and spit it out
I faced it all and I stood tall
And did it my way
I've loved, I've laughed and cried
I've had my fill my share of losing
And now, as tears subside
I find it all so amusing
To think I did all that
And may I say - not in a shy way
Oh no, oh no, not me
I did it my way
For what is a man, what has he got
If not himself, then he has naught
To say the things he truly feels
And not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows
And did it my way
Yes, it was my way
On my smartphone I keep a gallery of photos of The Chairman of the Board.
His rendition of “I Get a Kick out of You,” is definitive.
As are so many of his songs.
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Good Morning on this Friday, the twenty-first day of June, 2019
We posted a mug shot of a young Frank Sinatra.
Today’s commentary from Kali L spoke of hurt.
We posted the Boston weather report, the ticking calendar, and the growing number of posts as a time marker. And our own photo of our own Minestra.
And we posted a chuckle.
We ended with the lyrics of two songs that are almost biographies of Ol’ Blue Eyes.
And now? Gotta go.
Che vuoi? Le pocketbook?
See you soon.
Your love.